


The 12 Days of Christmas

by BeTheCheeto



Category: Naruto
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, M/M, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeTheCheeto/pseuds/BeTheCheeto
Summary: Madara is surprised to find that he has an admirer this Christmas... but who could possibly know him so well?UPDATED DAILY!





	1. Day 1

Madara scowled as he unlocked his office. His day had just begun, and already it was crap. It was frigid outside, and he had slept through his alarm and woken just 20 minutes before he had planned to be at the Hokage tower to review the documents for today's meeting with the tedious Inuzuka clan. The family was nearly as wild and unpredictable as the dogs they trained, and he knew he would need patience for this meeting. Unfortunately, today was NOT the day for him, as due to waking up late, he had not had time to stop by his favorite coffee shop for his coffee and muffin this morning, as he did every morning. He never felt quite right until he'd had his coffee, a caramel macchiato, one of the new luxuries he had quickly become addicted to since the founding of the village.

He closed his door and locked it, praying that at the very least, Hashirama would leave him alone as promised for the hour from now until the meeting to allow him to gather himself enough to be able to tolerate the wild clan that sought a place with the village.

When he turned, he allowed himself a moment to lean back against his door, eyes closed, as he breathed deeply, trying to rid his mind of his bad morning. As he slowly inhaled, a familiar aroma greeted him, and he opened his eyes curiously. He was greeted with the sight of a familiar-looking styrofoam cup with a bow stuck to it and a delicious-looking muffin. Ever the shinobi, he squinted at it cautiously, as though it would explode were he to come any closer. He stepped toward his desk carefully, slowly, until he reached it, and he picked it up, inhaling deeply. It didn't smell poisoned… He took a sip, and closed his eyes as a familiar taste washed over him. 

His eyes narrowed as he saw the small note that had been placed under the coffee. He picked it up and read the careful, slanted handwriting… calligraphy? “A hot gift to warm a cold day,” the note read. Madara frowned slightly as he read it. He didn't recognize the handwriting, nor did he know anyone who had a habit for calligraphy. 

He thought of how Hashirama had commented that the last few days, he had seemed grumpy and unpleasant (a comment that only the tactless imbecile that he, for some reason, called his best friend could get away with). He shrugged, figuring this must be Hashirama’s way of cheering him up in the hopes that the meeting would go well. After all, the village was still relatively new, so their friendship had only recently made it to the level of being able to talk of each other's hobbies and interests rather than how to get their clan members to stop killing one another. For all he knew, the man had a hobby for calligraphy.

Five minutes later found Madara studying the documents Hashirama had given him the previous day and happily munching on his muffin. He frowned in annoyance when he heard a knock on the door. “What?” he growled in irritation. 

When he got no response, he sighed, allowing his chakra to flow into the seal unlocking the door. His frown only deepened when, to his surprise, the guest that walked in was not Hashirama, as he had expected, but in fact, the man's younger brother. Tobirama raised an eyebrow at Madara's cold demeanor. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, though he didn't sound sorry at all. He brandished a file at Madara, stepping up to his desk. “Hashirama needed you to have these before today's meeting, and he seemed under the impression that harm would come to him if he dropped them off himself…” Tobirama's eyebrow arched slightly higher, partially a question and partially a threat. 

Madara forced himself to straighten up, and nodded confidently, despite his heart fluttering in his chest. While he have utmost confidence in his skill as a shinobi, he also knew he did not want to fight Tobirama, both for political and physical reasons. The man's stamina seemed to know no bounds. “Yes, well… you understand how your brother can get. I needed to focus,” he said.

To his surprise, Tobirama’s eyebrow dropped and he chuckled. “Yeah, I get that,” he said, smiling. 

Madara's jaw dropped. The man without feelings was… smiling?! For real?! He stared in shock as Tobirama smirked at him. “Well, I'll leave you to your reading,” he commented. “Enjoy your breakfast.” With that, the man turned and left the room. As soon as the door closed, Madara let his head fall to his desk with a groan. How was he supposed to act normal when Tobirama  _ smiled _ at him like that?! 

You see, contrary to popular belief, Madara did not, in fact, hate Tobirama. His problem was actually the exact opposite. Before the founding of the village, when their clan’s meetings occurred strictly on the battlefield, he had, especially given that the man always ended up battling his remaining brother, and despite Izuna’s skill, both he and Izuna knew Tobirama would one day win. But after the founding of the village, he had quickly come to realize that he had a lot in common with the man. They had several common interests, and Tobirama was one of the few people he had met who was actually able to challenge him intellectually. Of course, Hashirama was intelligent, as well, but it wasn't long before he debate between the two of them became Hashirama moping and leading Madara to stomp off angrily. With Tobirama, arguments were had until a clear winner was found or they were forcibly pried apart by their brothers. 

And, if Madara was being honest, he found that arguing with Tobirama was one of the most arousing pastimes he had ever found. But Madara had always been able to push it down. After all, it was no secret the younger despised him. But now… now the younger man was going around  _ smiling _ at him like that. Madara groaned again. This man would be the death of him.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara is surprised to receive another gift from his admirer, but he's suspicious of their intentions. Is it a threat? Or simply someone who wants to know Madara better?

Madara grimaced, resisting the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the negotiations table between the members of their negotiations team (consisting of him, Hashirama, Tobirama, and Izuna) and the representatives of the Inuzuka clan and their dogs. They were meeting for the second day, despite the fact that their negotiations were supposed to only be a one day affair. The Inuzuka clan had so far proven to have little focus, but amazing sensory capabilities, and as a result, yesterday's negotiations had to be called to an early close as the impulsive creatures wouldn't stop whining about the delicious food they could smell coming from a restaurant over a mile away. Madara had wanted to throttle the lot of them. 

Now, they sat arguing over location with the rowdy bunch. Due to their extremely sensitive noses, they were very picky about where they wanted to place their compound, and it was creating difficulties with the layout of existing structures in the village. They didn't want to be within ten miles of the sewage treatment plant, insisting that while they couldn't smell  _ quite _ that far, their dogs could. They also didn't want to be too close to the main restaurant district so that their children would be able to focus in training. Given the small amount of space that their council had so far cleared for building purposes and their (in Madara's mind) unreasonable demands, this left very little unused space possible and much of it was sandwiched between the compounds of other clans that had already specified that they wanted a certain amount of distance between them and other clans (namely, the stuck-up Hyuga, whose sprawling clan compound touched nearly every part of the village). Tobirama was sitting beside Hashirama, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose as he threw out any suggestions his brilliant mind was able to come up with through his teeth. Each suggestion was met with reactions ranging from noses wrinkled in disgust to snorts of derision. Hashirama was simply sitting before the representatives, pleading with them to be reasonable in a very undignified manner and pouting. 

Right now, the three of them were talking quietly across the room while the Inuzuka impatiently tapped their feet and fingers and anything else that they could move without angering the four they were negotiating with. Madara stared hard at the map of the village sprawled out in front of them, pursing his lips as he thought. “What if…” Eyes turned to him as he trailed off for a second, solidifying the idea in his head before speaking it aloud. When he had it firmly pictured in his head, he continued again. “What if we moved around some of the proposed structures, and put it here? After all, this segment of the village hasn't been built yet, and can still be rearranged,” he said, his hand rubbing his chin absent-mindedly. 

Tobirama opened his eyes to scowl at him. “And where, pray tell, do you plan to put the school? One of the main reasons we founded this village was to protect the children. It's why we put them there in the first place.” 

Madara let out a sigh of exasperation. “I realize that, but I maintain that the school does not  _ have _ to be so close to the Hokage tower. If you think about it logically, all of the instructors at the academy will be shinobi. In and of itself, the school will have the highest population of combat-trained shinobi in the village at any given time. The shinobi forces will be at the Tower, yes, but not always. The only ones there routinely will be mostly low-level chunin and paper pushers. All of our fighters will only be there to report in, and will be out on missions the remainder of the time. In all reality, it is safer to move the school  _ further _ from the Tower, as that is the most likely target in the village, and having the children further away gives us that much more time to get them to safety should an attack be launched on the Hokage Tower.”

He expected a rebuttal, but when he looked up at Tobirama, he was watching Madara with surprise and something that looked very close to… respect. He turned his attention back to the map with a concentrated frown. He put his finger on a currently empty point in the village in the boundary zone of the Hyuga and Uchiha compounds. “This place may be good…” he muttered quietly. “It's between two of the largest clan compounds, both with dojutsu capable of seeing if there is anything wrong at the academy, and both locations will be almost guaranteed to have some shinobi there at all times, resting between missions.”

Hashirama nodded his approval. “It is also closer to the hospital, and I can guarantee you that the children will need that.” 

Izuna nodded his approval, as well. “This gives the Uchiha a chance to show their commitment to the peace between clans by protecting all of the children of the village. But what about the Hyuga? Will their Clan Head be upset? This is within their boundary limit.” 

Madara shrugged. “Our treaty with them only specifies that no other clans will be within the boundary. There was never any agreement made that we wouldn't put a village structure there.” 

Tobirama pursed his lips as he thought about it. “I do believe they will attempt to make something of it, but Madara is correct. This isn't breaking the treaty they have with the village, and it is at the farthest edge of the boundary.” 

Madara had to work to keep the smug look off his face as Tobirama conceded. They presented the solution to the finicky dog-trainers, and sighed in relief when they finally approved. It took another hour to mete out the smaller details, but they finally got the treaty signed and made arrangements for the clan’s new compound to be built. When they were finally able to leave, Madara booked it out of there as soon as possible and quickly hid himself away in his office.

He let out a sigh of relief when he leaned against the door, finally able to find some peace and quiet. He took a few deep breaths, trying to rid himself of the stress today had put on him. He was just starting to calm when the silence he had finally found was interrupted by his stomach growling loudly. He groaned, and let his head fall back against the door. It was well past noon, and he was starting to regret refusing to allow the group to break for lunch. It had made sense at the time, as when they had done that yesterday, the Inuzuka representatives had gotten distracted exploring the developing village and had never returned, but he hadn't realized they were going to be so narrow-minded about any of the very reasonable locations they had offered them. But now that it was nearly 3 and Madara had more work yet to do today, it wouldn't be possible for him to step out to get something to eat. 

He sighed as he stepped over to his desk. While it certainly wasn't the first time he had missed a meal (it had been an almost daily occurrence during the days of constant warring between the many feuding clans), his body had become quite used to eating regularly, and now protested much more intensely when denied sustenance. He forced himself to ignore his grumbling stomach and sat down behind his desk, setting to work sifting through all of the paperwork that Hashirama had either not even started or had filled out incorrectly.

He sighed. Had the inhabitants of the village known that despite Hashirama's fierce battle persona,  _ this _ was how he handled politics, he was sure they would have elected Tobirama as Hokage. Madara had actually wanted the position for himself, and he knew that was what Hashirama had wanted as well, but he understood why it had gone down this way. After all, Hashirama had melted his frozen heart all those years ago. What would possibly lead him to believe that it wouldn't work on everyone else? While Madara would have loved being in charge of the village affairs, he knew that if anyone had the ability to truly bring the clans together, it was Hashirama. He smiled to himself as he shook himself from his musing, chuckling as he read through a form Hashirama had apparently gotten bored with and started doodling pictures of poorly drawn trees. Despite his ability to create them out of thin air, it appeared he did not have the talent to commit that to paper.

About twenty minutes later, he was immersed in a letter from one of the other clans seeking an alliance with the village, debating whether they would be a good fit or not. While he knew Hashirama wanted to be inclusive, he also realized that proposing an “alliance” could lead the village wide open to attack, hence why he and Tobirama had been the ones sorting through the requests. He wondered if Tobirama had seen this one yet, and if he had, they would have to have a discussion about it. He wished he could be as open-minded as Hashirama, but the proposal this time seemed… suspicious. 

A knock on his door hardly entered his consciousness, and he instructed the person on the other side to come in. The door opened, but Madara didn’t even take his eyes off the letter in his hand, rereading it to make sure he wasn’t reading too much into it. When the person who entered his office didn’t speak for a moment, he looked up in irritation. He was surprised to find a civilian boy standing there holding a container that smelled as though it contained the most delicious food Madara had ever smelled. “Can I help you?” he asked the child, surprise and irritation in his voice. 

“Um… I have this order for you…” he managed, clearly intimidated by Madara. 

Madara scowled. “Order of what, exactly?”

“Um… ramen?” he said uncertainly.

Madara sighed in exasperation. “I did not order anything, from anyone.”

The boy shifted uncomfortably. “It was ordered by someone else, for you. It came with this note,” he said, holding out a slip of paper. 

Madara sighed again. “Well, bring it here.” The boy did as instructed and Madara’s frown only deepened as he read the note. ‘ _ Meetings are trying, you need your strength. Signed, ? P.S. Did you like your breakfast yesterday?’  _ The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Who gave you this?” he asked the boy, his voice shaking in anger. 

“I… I don’t know… he just handed me some money and placed the order and disappeared. I… I didn’t even see his face…” the boy stammered. Madara stood from his desk, stepping towards the boy menacingly. He swallowed hard. “Please, sir, honest, I don’t know… is something wrong? I watched the owner make it… there’s no poison in it or anything, promise…”

Madara only continued advancing until he was well into the boy’s personal space, the child stuck between Madara and the wall. He opened his mouth to angrily growl at the boy, only to feel a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Tobirama, eyebrow raised as he watched him. 

“Is there any particular reason you’re tormenting the village children?” he asked Madara icily.

Madara scowled in response. “Someone keeps sending me food, and I want to know why,” he said. Instead of erasing Tobirama’s confusion, it seemed to only add to it. 

“ _ Keeps _ sending you? So it’s happened before?” he asked. 

“Yes, the muffin and coffee I had for breakfast yesterday.” 

Tobirama nodded consideringly, before taking the bowl from the boy and looking at him kindly. “Thank you for this. Go ahead and head on home. And be very careful, child. You really shouldn’t be accepting money from strangers for gifts for shinobi. It could be dangerous, both for them and for you,” he said, his warning made less intimidating by the warmth in his voice. Madara was staring at him, cowed. He had no idea that Tobirama could sound so warm and friendly. Welcoming, even. 

When the boy nodded nervously and bolted from the room, Tobirama turned back to Madara, holding the bowl out for him. “Madara, is it or is it not true that you ate your breakfast yesterday?” he asked, as though having to explain to a child. 

Madara scowled.”Yes, but only because I thought it was from Hashirama,” he said, refusing to give up that easily. 

Tobirama seemed a bit surprised by his reaction, but seemed to disregard it. “Well, either way, you’re still here. Clearly, whoever it is isn’t trying to kill you… at least, not yet.”

Madara gave Tobirama an unamused look. “Thanks for that summation,” he said drily. All the same, he snatched the soup from the man’s hand. 

Tobirama sighed as he walked back around his desk to sit down. “Look, Madara, unless you find some of this food that’s being sent to you has been poisoned, we have no reason to believe it’s from an enemy. I mean, you ate yesterday’s and here you are, right as rain, right? I know it’s our habit given the way we’ve lived our lives to be suspicious, but this village is not just a chance for the children. It’s a chance for us, as well, to live our lives in happiness rather than suspicion. It’s a chance for us to find people who care about us, and spend time with them. It seems to me like you have someone who is concerned about you, and wants you to be happy and healthy. I know that’s scary, but… is it really a bad thing?” he asked. He gave Madara a small, sad smile as he walked out, and Madara just stared at the open door. 

He quickly shook himself and looked at the bowl.  He carefully opened it, and found that he had been right… it did smell heavenly. He found attached to the bowl not a single pair, but a set of very nice chopsticks with little flames on them. So these must have been the real gift, he thought to himself. He chuckled slightly as he examined them. This was clearly a nod to the prevalence of fire jutsu users among the Uchiha. He thought about what Tobirama had said as he put the first bite in his mouth (and dear God, he had never tasted anything quite as delicious as this). He wondered if maybe he was overreacting. He shook the thought from his head. He didn’t have time to worry about that right now. 

He turned back to his work, and cursed softly. In all the commotion about the soup, he had forgotten to ask Tobirama about the letter. He sighed. It would just have to wait until tomorrow, he supposed. Having Tobirama lay one life lesson on him was enough for one day. Any more, and he didn’t think his heart could take it. The more he got to know the man, the more he wanted to know, and it ached that he knew Tobirama did not feel the same.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara thinks he'll get a reprieve from the gifts on his day off, but when he finds himself mistaken, he finds he may have just been given a valuable clue.

Madara sighed in contentment, sipping his coffee as he looked out the window at the light snow that had fallen during the night, grateful he wouldn't have to venture out into the frozen wasteland that the village had become. He really hated the cold. The original location of the Uchiha had been quite a bit further south, and warmer at this time of year. When founding the village, they had split the distance between them, building quite close to where many of their fiercest battles had been fought against each other. Madara hadn't realized it would be so damned cold, though. He was glad that he and Hashirama had sparred yesterday to allow Madara to let off some steam about this infuriating secret admirer business. Hashirama had, of course, gushed about how romantic it was, and tried to speculate with Madara who it may be, but Madara had silenced his curious mutterings with swift strikes. 

He sighed. His friend just didn't understand how frustrating this was. He didn't understand how his best friend and his brother saw his little problem as anything g other than dangerous. After all, while it was true that so far, he hadn't been hurt, it didn't mean that wasn't their intention. They may just be softening him up, trying to get him to lower his guard. And as soon as he did, BAM! That's when they strike, an with his guard lowered, who knows what they may achieve?

He shook himself from these thoughts, relaxing at the fact that at least no gifts will find their way to him today. After all, unless his 'admirer’ was an Uchiha, they couldn't possibly know where he lived. The only people outside the clan who knew was Hashirama, and unless he had been REALLY good at keeping secrets (in which case Mito would be a force to be reckoned with, but let's face it: it's Hashirama, there's no way he's secretly gay), the person giving him these things doesn't know. Though, Madara supposed, he couldn't eliminate the possibility that Hashirama WAS in fact giving him these things, posing as a secret admirer in a misguided attempt to make him feel better. 

When he heard a knock on the door, he growled in frustration. If Hashirama was about to interrupt his snow day, that were going to have problems. Madara had every intention if lying in today and doing absolutely nothing, another of those mysterious luxuries he had quickly come to live since the village’s founding. When he opened the door, he was curious to find that there was no one there. He looked around, seeing a box on his doorstep. He scowled, scooping up the package and bringing it inside. He stared at it angrily for about 15 minutes, hands clasped in front of his face, until he decided on a course of action. 

Half an hour later, Hashirama walked into his house without knocking like he owned the place. Madara scowled, but he had other concerns now. Hashirama rubbed his hands together to warm them. “So, what is it that has you calling me over here on our day off, old friend?” 

Madara angrily pointed at the present. Hashirama raised an eyebrow as he looked from the present to Madara. “Ok…” 

Madara glared at him. “They know where I live! This is clearly a personal attack!” 

Hashirama rolled his eyes. “Madara, have you even opened it? How can you know it's an attack if you don't even know what it is?” 

Madara glared at him again. “Just because I don't know what's in it doesn't mean it isn't dangerous,” he bit out. 

Hashirama sighed then stepped towards the package on the table. He maneuvered around Madara, sidestepping the arm thrown out to stop him, and ripped open the wrapping. He pulled out a jar of… something green? The substance inside was a mint green color, and when Hashirama opened it, it smelled strongly medicinal. His eyes lit up. “I know this stuff!” he cried victoriously.

Madara's eyes widened. “You do?” 

Hashirama nodded so hard Madara feared his head would separate for a moment. “Yes, it's the best healing balm I've ever used! It heals cuts in seconds! Here!” he cried, running over to Madara and dabbing some on the spot where Madara had managed to get cut during their spar yesterday before the other man could object. He frowned when he felt nothing, but when Hashirama gasped, he ran to the mirror in his hallway. He stared in wonder, his fingers absent-mindedly stroking over the fresh scar on his cheek. “Where does it come from?” he asked in wonder. 

Hashirama shrugged. “I don't know. I've never gotten it myself. I've just had a few teammates use it on me,” he said. 

Madara's eyes turned sharp. “So, it must be available in the village?” he muttered. 

Hashirama could hardly contain his glee. “Madara, if you can find where this stuff is sold…” he said excitedly. 

Madara scowled. “I know. But I have no idea where to even begin looking…”

The rest of the night was spent in speculation before Hashirama finally returned home to his wife, and Madara was left staring at the salve. He had to admit, he couldn't help but agree with Hashirama that this gift had him more inclined to believe that his secret admirer was not trying to hurt him, but still. Trust was hard to develop for a shinobi. How was he to trust someone who clearly didn't even feel comfortable revealing their very identity?


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara's admirer seems to know something that no one else does. Could this give Madara all the answers he needs to solve the puzzle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Miray for help on the gift idea for today's piece! Hope you like what I did with it!

Madara smiled as he looked over the village. Today was not nearly as chilly as yesterday, though the snow that had fallen had stuck. Still, with it being a bit warmer, he had decided to come up to the Hokage Mountain, as it had been affectionately dubbed by some of the early villagers, and let some of his birds fly free. They were missing the freedom they’d had during the time when the clan moved about more freely, and so Madara decided to give them a treat by bringing them up here to fly and play where they had some privacy. 

He had brought Yume, Kaze, and his personal favorite, Sora. Yume and Kaze were currently circling overhead, play-fighting, while Sora appeared to be nowhere to be found. Madara wasn’t concerned, though; part of the reason Sora was his favorite was the bird’s independence and unflappable ability to tackle any situation. He was always Madara’s first choice to take on a hunt. As Madara looked out at the village, he reflected on how hard it had been for them to get here. He certainly almost hadn’t made it, himself. Had it not been for Izuna’s near death at Tobirama’s hands, Madara isn’t sure he would have struck the deal that allowed peace between their clans, and a village to protect the children. 

Had it not been for Hashirama’s unwavering loyalty, they would probably still be at each other’s throats (or, at least, Madara would still be at Hashirama’s; he was well aware that Hashirama had never used his full strength against him, which was a terrifying thought given how many times he had still come close to losing). He looked down at the likeness of his friend’s face, carved into the rock below him, and smiled. While he had in fact wanted to be the person carved into this mountain, he was grateful that if it couldn’t be him, it could be someone as great as Hashirama. 

He hated to admit it, but in many ways, Hashirama was better suited to the position than himself. After all, it was very rare to find a shinobi anywhere near Hashirama’s caliber that hadn’t been corrupted by their own power, or convinced of their own invincibility. Not only did Hashirama not see himself as superior to others despite his indescribable strength, he endeavored to use that strength to protect all people, not just his clan, and to treat them with kindness while he did so. Madara would be the first to admit that even he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t let his arrogance, or the importance to him of his clan, get in the way of running the village at times, while Hashirama, despite being a clan head himself, struggled to view his clan as only equal to others. 

Madara smiled when he was snapped from his cheerful musing by the distinct screech of a falcon. He looked up to see Sora gliding towards him and instinctively held out his arm, but frowned when he realized that Sora was not flying as smoothly as usual. Had he been injured? He looked closer and saw that he was, in fact, carrying something - a rather heavy-looking something, but he seemed quite proud of his catch. Madara allowed the bird to land and growled in frustration when he learned that the spoils of Sora’s hunt had been none other than another blasted present. 

He tore off the note and read the slanted handwriting. ‘ _ A simple gift to help you enjoy your day off ;)’.  _ Madara glared at the present for a minute, before sighing. He knew what Hashirama would tell him if he was here, and for the first time in his life, he decided not to fight Hashirama’s advice. The man may be a total kook, but his intuition usually turned out to be surprisingly good. When he pulled the wrappings off, he found inside a nice wooden box containing metal gauntlets that rose up to cover his wrists and the backs of his hands, but still left his fingers free to do jutsu. His eyebrows rose in surprise. They looked expensive. 

He slipped them on, and to his surprise, they were not nearly as uncomfortable as they appeared. As he admired them, Sora, who had set himself up on Madara’s shoulder, cocked his head to the side questioningly, then began pecking at the box. Madara looked curiously at the bird before picking it back up. He found at the very bottom a scrap of leather with ties of some sort. He looked at it in confusion for a moment, wondering what it’s purpose might be. He shrugged and tied it over the forearm of the gauntlet, seeing as that was where it best fit. 

His confusion was instantly cleared up and replaced by awe when Sora cheerfully hopped from his shoulder to perch on top of the soft leather. He watched in amazement as the bird made himself comfortable and closed his eyes. While he may have solved the mystery of the leather, he was pretty sure it had left more questions than it had answered. He hadn’t been aware that anyone knew of his hobby. Even most of his clansmen were unaware that Madara personally trained the majority of the falcons they used for assistance in hunting and as messengers. The only reason Hashirama knew was because he had wanted to hire an outsider to train the village’s messenger birds, and Madara had offered to do it himself. He was beginning to believe it even more likely that his admirer was simply Hashirama, trying to lavish his friend with gifts he knew Madara would never accept otherwise. It was definitely something that Hashirama would do. 

He decided to go and find his old friend and investigate. He called down the other two birds and gave all three the cue words to go home and settle into their roost. With that taken care of, he set off towards the man’s home, hoping that Mito wouldn’t mind him dropping in for a visit. While the two of them certainly didn’t hate each other, it had taken Mito a while to warm up to him, and he was almost afraid that showing up unannounced at her home after calling Hashirama away suddenly yesterday for something that she would see as trivial may push her over the edge into outright anger. She was, after all, an Uzumaki, and they were well known for tempers as fiery as their hair. 

When he arrived, however, he found that Mito was not upset to see him at all, nor did she seem particularly surprised, for some reason. She invited Madara in and explained that they were just about to sit down to dinner and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he would not decline joining them. He found that a little strange, as one would have to be insane to turn down Mito’s famous home-cooked soba, which he could smell all the way in the hall (he was beginning to fear that it was just a ruse, and in fact, Hashirama had done the cooking), but as he came into the kitchen he understood why she had made him promise before entering. Sitting at the small dining table in Hashirama’s kitchen was the man himself, right beside his brother. 

Out of pure habit, Madara scowled. Tobirama raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were over that after the lovely little heart-to-heart we had the other day,” he said coolly. 

Madara cursed the man internally when he saw Hashirama’s eyes light up. “Heart-to-heart? Are you two getting along? Madara? Tobi? Really? You’re friends now?!” He rattled off questions faster than either of them could answer, and Madara could see tears gathering in his eyes. Mito simply rolled her eyes at her husband’s antics and stepped to the stove to serve the meal.

Madara let out a snort of derision. “Hardly. Just because we’ve come to an uncomfortable agreement not to kill each other does not make us friends.”

Now it was Tobirama’s turn to scowl, though he didn’t comment. Hashirama looked despairingly between the two of them. “But… but you were doing so well…” he pouted. 

Madara sat stiffly across the table from Tobirama. In reality, he didn’t actually feel that way about the younger man, but if he didn’t distance himself from him, it could become a problem. He had already admitted to himself that he found the younger man attractive, but when all he had seen him as was an arrogant prick, it had been easy enough to ignore. While he was sure that the man would be an absolutely phenomenal lay (most of the tightly-wound ones were), it wasn’t worth dealing with his attitude, for one, or explaining to Hashirama why it would remain just a one-time deal. When you took the attitude changes Madara was starting to see in Tobirama as of late and combined them with how long it had been since Madara had gotten any, it was shaping up to be a bad combination. 

Tobirama softened a little as the meal came to a close, but he was still frowning slightly whenever conversation lagged. Madara didn’t think much of it. Tobirama was often frowning, usually thinking over some kind of experiment he was working on. Really, the man stretched himself too thin. “You know, Tobirama, you’ve seemed rather stressed lately,” Madara said. 

The younger man’s eyes shot up from where they had been staring at the table, and even Mito regarded Madara with a raised eyebrow at the concern in his tone. 

Tobirama raised an eyebrow. “And why should you care, seeing as are we aren’t friends? After all, we’ve just ‘agreed not to kill each other’, right?”

Madara let out a sigh of exasperation to hide his own shock at his spoken concern. He hadn’t meant to say anything, but he’d been thinking about it, and it had just popped out. “You’re important to the village. We can’t risk losing you at this crucial stage in its development. You should take better care of yourself,” he said gruffly. 

Hashirama regarded him with considering eyes before grinning ear to ear and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I knew it! You  _ do _ care!” he declared proudly. 

Madara scoffed. “Hardly,” he mumbled. “I… I’m just worried about the public front of the village, that’s all. We can’t be seen as our shinobi being weak and exhausted all the time.”

Tobirama was watching him shrewdly, and it made Madara squirm in discomfort. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Well, I thank you for the wonderful meal, as usual, Mito. I’ll see you two at the office tomorrow.” With that, he rose from his chair and exited the residence before anyone could protest. He cursed when, halfway home, he realized that with all of the strangeness surrounding the Tobirama incident, he had forgotten to pester his friend about the source of the gifts. 


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work Christmas party has some... interesting results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little late, sorry! Also, I know I don't really mention the gift itself much in this chapter, but bear with me. I have plans for it to make an appearance later on in the series.

When Madara arrived at work the next day, he frowned to see another present had been set on his desk. He sat before it, pulling it towards him with a resigned sigh. He carefully undid the wrapping, and discovered a box containing a necklace with two charms on it, a white cat of some sort and a tongue of flame. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. The flame was an obviious reference to the fire-style jutsus his clan was famous for, but he didn’t know why the cat. He looked for a note to see if that explained it, but there was nothing. Madara grunted in displeasure. He didn’t like not understanding things, and this whole situation had him frustrated to begin with. Why couldn’t this person just give him these gifts? Why did they feel they had to hide. 

Madara put them on and stared at them, and began to consider what the charms may mean, ignoring his work for the day. He tried to focus as much as possible, but by the time he had completed his work day, the only possibility he had drawn was that the Uchiha were known for their bond with ninja cats, though a white cat didn’t particularly make sense for that, as most ninja cats were dark in color for better camouflage in the dark of night. 

Madara sighed as he closed up his office. He would opt to stay later in the hopes of completing some of the tasks he was planning on doing tonight, but unfortunately, Hashirama would only come and drag him out of his office in about an hour whether he liked it or not. In a bid to increase the sense of camaraderie among the shinobi, Hashirama had planned a Christmas party for them all, and attendance was mandatory for all those that were currently in the village. This was especially true for the four founding members of the village. 

Madara trudged his way down the stairs to the main hall where the party was being held. On his way there, he ran into Izuna, who was practically bouncing with excitement. He grabbed Madara’s shoulders, and the older man looked at him with a single raised eyebrow in question. “Brother! You’ll never guess what just happened! Touka invited me to the Senju’s family Christmas! Touka!”

Madara rolled his eyes and scoffed. His brother’s infatuation with Hashirama’s fierce cousin was laughable. She often treated him like a puppy that wouldn’t stop following her. Though, Madara couldn’t deny that watching his goofy little brother chase down the fierce warrior with doe eyes all night would be amusing, as he had already been invited to the gathering by Hashirama, and even if he wanted to, turning it down would be a terrible road in the grand scheme of diplomacy between the two families. Izuna was about to start loudly exclaiming again, when he tilted his head in confusion. Madara looked at him sideways. Was it possible that his brother actually  _ was _ a dog?

“Where did this come from?” he asked, reaching forward as his hand clasped around the charms still hanging around Madara’s neck. His eyes grew wide, and Madara saw a mischievous gleam in his eyes when he took in Madara’s embarrassed flush. “Madara? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Madara scoffed. “I hardly think any man I would choose to court would deign himself to be called a ‘boyfriend’, but for your information, no, I am not seeing anyone,” he told his brother curtly. 

Izuna’s grin only widened, realizing that he had caught on to something juicy. It wasn’t often that his brother had any dirt in his life, and he was unfairly good at hiding it, whereas Izuna’s screw-ups tended to be inevitably large and usually require Madara’s help at getting out of, leading to endless mockery from his older brother. As a result, when Izuna could get something on Madara, he never let the older man live it down. Madara quickly yanked the chain back. 

“Then where did you get it?” Izuna asked, his smirk growing when Madara became visibly flustered. 

“It was a gift…” he was forced to admit through his teeth. 

“Oh, yeah? From who?”

Madara sighed, and pushed his brother into a side room. “Look, this does not leave this room, do you understand me?” he asked his brother dangerously. “There is… someone… who has been sending me gifts. I don’t know who they are, or what they want, but I haven’t ruled out that this is some sort of ruse in an attempt to lure me into a false sense of security and strike when I am weakest.”

Izuna stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, before his grin slowly faded back into place, larger than ever. “Mads… are you telling me… that you have a secret admirer?” he asked. He looked as though both Christmas and his birthday had come early. 

Madara sighed. “Did you listen to a word I said?”

Izuna rolled his eyes. “Come on, Madara, you have to admit, someone giving you a necklace is hardly a death threat. Plus, even though it disgusts me to admit, even I acknowledge that you are… attractive,” he finished his sentence with a shudder. “If you were a girl, I would have to kill every man that looked at you because they would ALL be lusting after you. As is, you have the attention of most of this village. Does it really surprise you that you have an admirer?”

Madara laughed. “Come on, Izuna. I do not have that many fans. Most people are afraid of me.”

Izuna shrugged. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have you ravish them in their beds,” he teased, grinning like a fool. 

Madara just rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s get this over with, you dolt.” With that, he dragged his brother into the party, and unsurprisingly, was engulfed in a warm pair of arms immediately. 

“MADARA! You’re late! I was afraid I’d have to come and drag you away from your desk myself!” Hashirama cried. Behind the exuberant man, he could see both Mito and Tobirama rolling their eyes. Tobirama made a subtle drinking gesture, and Madara nodded almost imperceptibly. When he finally managed to extricate himself from the inebriated Hokage’s arms, he found the man dragged away from him almost instantly, no doubt to be scolded by his wife for losing so much control in public.

Madara found himself left with Tobirama, as Izuna had slipped away discreetly to avoid a Hashirama hug almost immediately. Tobirama had a drink in his hand, but was barely sipping on it, and stood awkwardly beside Madara. Madara was just about to go get a drink himself when Tobirama spoke. “So, Hashirama mentioned…”

The younger man’s speech was quickly cut off with a keening cry of “MADARAAA!!! There you are! I was  _ soo  _ hoping to see you here!” Madara visibly winced at the sound of the harpy’s cry, and Tobirama definitely noticed, as he raised an eyebrow in amusement. Tobirama examined the woman. She was clearly an Uchiha, if her black hair and eyes told him anything, and she was quite attractive, though loud. 

“Hikari-chan…” he gritted out through his teeth. 

“Madara, darling, I  _ do  _ hope you’re saving me a dance,” the woman drawled, her voice syrupy sweet. It grated on Madara’s ears. 

“Mmm, I do wish I could, Hikari-chan, but unfortunately, I am not sure that I can stay long. I popped in to appease our esteemed Hokage, and as he has taken his leave, I may be joining him shortly to complete some work that we were unable to finish today.”

Hikari pouted, sidling up to Madara and putting a hand on his waist. She ran the fingers of her other hand teasingly up his chest. “Oh, that’s too bad, Madi, I was hoping we could go back to your place, have a little  _ fun _ . It’s been ages…” 

Madara forced himself to breathe to avoid bashing her stupid face in. He forced a smile. “Hikari-chan, this is very forward of you,” he said cordially. 

She grinned wickedly. “Well, then, perhaps we move this party somewhere more appropriate,” she purred. Madara was just about to open his mouth to respond when the song changed and she squealed, causing Madara to blink quickly as his hearing recovered. “Oh, I love this song! Come, Madi, let’s dance!” she cried, grabbing Madara by the hand and dragging him to the dance floor. Madara unthinkingly sent pleading eyes towards Tobirama, though Tobirama’s impassively stoic face made it obvious to him that he would be receiving no help. 

She spent the entirety of the song alternating between blathering on about nonsense that Madara cared not for, or shamelessly flirting with him, even openly grabbing his ass near the end. As they spun, he just happened to catch the look of irritated disapproval on Tobirama’s face, most likely at Madara’s lack of propriety in allowing her to grope him like that (though he’d like to see the younger man try to deter this woman; she was like a bulldog, once she got her teeth in something, she refused to let go.) Madara had been desperately attempting to come up with excuses to duck out, afraid that if he didn’t, she would end up following him home. While it had been a long time since he’d had a partner, he certainly didn’t intend for  _ her _ to be the one to break that streak, although, if he was being honest with himself, the likelihood that the streak would be broken by his partner of choice was unlikely. 

He was surprised when after just one dance, a pale hand gently clasped Hikari’s shoulder. He looked up with a sigh of relief, even when he saw that it was Tobirama that had grabbed her. “Pardon me, Uchiha-san, but I require Madara-sama’s assistance with some very important village business, and unfortunately, time is of the essence. I am afraid I must steal him away this very second,” he murmured gently. 

She looked flabbergasted, but coolly tried to smooth her hair as she nodded accommodatingly. “O-of course, Senju-sama, I wouldn’t dream of keeping him from his important business,” she cooed, throwing a simpering look of pride at Madara that made him want to scream in frustration. As though she had any right to be proud of Madara’s accomplishments as anything other than her clan head. And, in all reality, he was even ashamed to be that closely related to her. 

As soon as Tobirama managed to extricate him from her vice-like grip, he breathed a sigh of relief as they swept from the hall. Tobirama smirked at him in amusement. When they had retreated a safe distance, the younger man looked at Madara, a small smile on his face. “So, now that I have assisted you, I feel I have the right to ask… what was that all about?” 

Madara sighed. “It’s… complicated,” he said simply. 

Tobirama raised an eyebrow. “Well, since I just lied about having village business, and we both know Mito will be caring for a very drunk Hashirama the remainder of the night, I’d say we have plenty of time,” he said drily. 

Madara took a deep breath, silently appraising Tobirama for a moment before he eventually sighed. “Fine, but not here.” The man nodded, and the two headed upstairs, finding themselves in Tobirama’s office. When the door was safely shut bejhind them, Madara allowed himself to fall into the comfy lounge chair in the corner of Tobirama’s office with a huff. Tobirama raised a brow, but simply took a seat across the kotatsu from him, waiting patiently. 

Madara breathed deeply as he tried to think of where to begin. He didn’t look at the younger man. “I don’t know if you are aware, but Izuna and I… we used to have three other brothers. When I was 14 years old, the youngest of them, Asuka, died. He was only 8. I was devastated, we all were. I thought nothing worse could possibly happen than losing my baby brother… I was wrong. Within two years, Kazuya and Tatsuya had died as well. I witnessed my middle brother, Tatsuya’s, death with my own eyes, the day before my 16th birthday.” Madara closed his eyes against the storm of memories reliving his past brought him.

“I… I went a little crazy after that, not caring about much of anything. I was fiercer in battle, and I seemed fearless. It is from that time that much of my reputation as a shinobi arose. But, I was also seeking any form of comfort offered to me, a pathetic attempt to heal my broken soul,” he chuckled bitterly. “Hikari was the biggest mistake I ever made. She is older than me, a little. Two years, I think. It was enough, though, for her to seem motherly and yet still attractive to me… I allowed her to care for me, allowed her to be the balm that my aching heart required, and…” Madara took a deep breath. He clenched his fists, and refused to look at his best friend’s younger brother. “And she took advantage of me…”

He awaited the other man’s ridicule. After all, he knew how most men viewed the possibility of a man and how they should act. He knew that any other guy would tell him he was a fool for thinking badly of Hikari for being willing to sleep with him, but he couldn’t help it. He had relived that moment in his head so many times, that feeling of instant regret the very moment they had finished. He didn’t expect someone as strong as Tobirama to understand. But, to his surprise, the mockery never came. 

He chanced a glance at Tobirama, and was surprised to see that the man was watching him with concern. “Took advantage of you how?” he asked, his voice a deep, comforting rumble. 

Madara sighed. “She just… she knew my weakness, and she exploited that to get me into bed with her. I remember after, I was so terrified. We hadn’t used any protection, and I was so scared that she was going to end up pregnant, and I’d be stuck with her forever. I didn’t see it at the time, but I later realized that that was her goal… she was trying to trap me. She didn’t care about me as a person, she cared about the future head of the clan, and she wanted a piece of the power that came along with that.”

Madara saw Tobirama nod. “Yeah, I can see that… she seems like that type of woman. Conniving.”

Madara laughed scathingly. “She is. She’s an awful woman, and I try to avoid her as much as possible. She was quite upset when I told her there wouldn’t be a repeat of that night. She began spreading lies about me to all the members of the clan. Lies that very nearly got me disowned by Father. As it was, he was not very pleased to learn that I had been… indiscreet.” Madara’s eyes darkened. His father had been a harsh and cruel man, and Madara had learned the hard way to make better choices in his love life. 

Tobirama nodded slowly. “That sounds awful. I’m sorry you had to go through that, Madara.”   
Madara looked up in surprise. Tobirama had stood, and held out a hand to help him up. He slowly, cautiously, took it. Tobirama stepped back once Madara was standing. “I understand how that happened. I’m aware you already know, but Hashirama and I lost our brothers, as well. Itama and Kawarama. I would have given anything to feel better after their deaths.”

Madara stared in awe at the man. “How… how can you just accept all of this? Aren’t men supposed to enjoy any sex they can get?” he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief. 

To his surprise, Tobirama snorted. “Well, that may be the reaction you get from a straight man, but I find the very idea of sex with a woman repulsive.”

Madara gaped at him. “W-wait, you… you’re gay?!”

Tobirama turned to him with amusement. “You didn’t know that?” he asked, brow arched. His face was drawn with a knowing smirk. “I’m not exactly secretive about it.”

Madara spluttered ungracefully. “B… but… You… you’re so strong, and powerful…” 

Tobirama’s eyes were alight with amusement. “So, gay men can’t be strong?” he asked. His eyes flashed with mischievous intent as he stepped increasingly closer to Madara. “You know, were I straight, I would personally assume that gay men should be  _ stronger  _ than straight men. After all, when I want to press my chosen partner against a wall and fuck them until they’re screaming for me, they tend to be heavier… muscle mass and all…” he murmured. 

Madara realized entirely too late that Tobirama had gotten close enough that they were nearly nose to nose, and Tobirama had him backed up against the wall, arms on either side of his head. Tobirama was staring at him intensely, and the whole situation was doing weird things to his stomach. He could feel it flipping in his gut, and he was quite certain that wasn’t normal. When Tobirama eyed the necklace Madara was still wearing and looked up to the older man with a seductive grin, Madara decided he’d had enough. 

“Uh… yeah… I guess…” he managed. He quickly looked around, his eyes landing on the clock. “Oh, would you look at the time?! Best be going, see you tomorrow!” he cried as he slid out from between pale arms, just as one of them lowered toward the charms dangling right in front of his sternum. He ran out the door and down the hall, in such a rush to get home that he didn’t even notice the disappointed sigh that came from behind him as he rushed out. 

Tobirama stared at the door, one hand still pressed against the wall. He considered to himself as he slowly straightened, eyes narrowing as he watched the door in the hopes the man he had been conversing with would return. When he didn’t, the sensor sighed. “Well, that won’t do at all…” he muttered. With a mischievous smirk on his face, he stepped over to his desk. He had a lot of planning to do. 


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara and Tobirama find themselves the center of some very juicy village gossip.

The next morning, Madara was in his office catching up on paperwork. He had forced the incident from last night out of his mind, and was actually being productive for the first time in nearly a week when Izuna came strolling in with a mischievous grin on his face. Madara saw it and froze. Nothing good came from Izuna smiling like that.

“What do you want?” he growled at his younger brother. 

Izuna feigned a look of hurt before his grin came back full-force, knowing that Madara was on to him that something was up. “Why brother, whatever do you mean? I just came to spend time with my only sibling, whom I love and cherish more than anything,” he said, pretending to straighten the imaginary halo over his head. Madara raised an eyebrow, and Izuna dropped the act. “So, did you have fun last night?” he asked, his tone teasing. 

Madara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Not particularly. Why?” he asked drily. 

Izuna seemed surprised. “Oh…” His eyes lit with a curiosity that concerned his older brother and he leaned in. “Is Tobirama not good?” 

Madara looked at his brother in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Izuna sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Anija, don't hold out on me. I'm on a dry spell to pursue Touka, I need to live vicariously through you!”

Madara was starting to see where this was going, and he had to admit, he didn't like it at all. “And how, exactly, is asking me if Tobirama ‘isn’t good’ living vicariously through me?” Though he already knew the answer, Madara asked the question with deadly intonation. 

Izuna appeared not to notice. “Well, I know you’re both guys, and I’m not into that, so it’s not  _ quite  _ the same as if you were to tell me about banging a chick, but I can still get excited by the thrill of the chase!” He smiled brilliantly at his brother. 

Madara growled in response. “I did not have sex with Tobirama!”

Izuna scoffed. “Yeah, and hell isn’t hot.”

Madara took a deep breath, reminding himself that he would be very sad if he killed his only remaining brother, though at this moment, he couldn’t think why for the life of him. “What makes you think I slept with him?” he asked through his teeth. 

Izuna laughed. “Come on, Anija, everyone saw you two leaving the party together, and many took note of the fact that you did not return…”

Madara glared at him until the smile on his face faltered. “Holy shit, you really didn’t hook up with him, did you?” Izuna asked in wonder. Madara didn’t even deign to respond, and Izuna sighed with exasperation. “Well, why the hell not?!”

Madara looked at Izuna as though he had grown an extra head. “Why would I?” 

Izuna put his face in his palm. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re totally in love with him and the only person who apparently doesn’t know that is you?”

Now it was Madara’s turn to scoff, but only to cover the butterflies in his stomach at how close Izuna’s words were to the truth, though he’d never admit it. “Please, Tobirama and I hate each other. We would never have sex, OR fall in love,”Madara said, his heart twinging at the fact that at least the first part of that was right. 

Izuna just shook his head, chuckling slightly in disbelief. “Of course, Anija, how could I forget?” he said, still chuckling as he walked out. 

Madara frowned after his brother. How dare he come in here, accuse him of doing the one thing he wanted more than anything and would never get to do, and leave?! Madara’s head hit his desk and he just stayed there for a moment. It was only when he heard a familiar drawl that his head shot back up. 

“You know, it’s only 9, Madara. You can’t possibly be that tired, although I’m certainly not complaining about what your exhaustion this morning is doing for my reputation.” Madara stared in shock at the smirking Senju. 

“And what on Earth do you mean by that?”

Tobirama snorted. “Come on, Madara. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors already. According to the village gossips, I seduced you at the party last night and took you back to my bed to ravish you.” There was a twinkle of amusement in Tobirama’s eyes. 

Madara stared. “A-as if. Do they have nothing better to do than spread impossible gossip?” he asked. He could feel the blush staining his cheeks, so he directed the question at the desk, missing the frown flit across Tobirama’s features before the man could rearrange his face into his carefully calculated mask. 

Tobirama quickly shook himself of his disappointment. “Anyway, I only came in here to ask if you had noticed this sitting outside your doorway?” he asked.    
Madara looked up, surprised to find him holding a very large, narrow wrapped gift. His eyes were wide. “No! How long has that been there?”

Tobirama raised an eyebrow. “How should I know? It’s your office, not mine.”

Madara cursed himself for being so stupid. “Either way, thanks, I guess,” he told the younger man, stepping around the desk to take it from him. He held it out with a raised eyebrow. 

“You don’t seem surprised.”

Madara shrugged. “I’ve been getting them every day for almost a week now. I should hope not.”

Tobirama seemed surprised. “Really? Who are they from?”

“I don’t know. They only sign the few cards with a question mark.”

The albino man smirked. “You have a secret admirer?” He seemed amused, and Madara didn’t respond simply out of the refusal to acknowledge Tobirama’s obvious surprise that Madara was desirable. “Come now, Madara, you’re one of the best shinobi of our generation. Surely you know who it is?”

“No, and I don’t particularly care! I don’t have much patience for someone who lays in waiting rather than just pursuing what they want! It’s too… sneaky. A person like that wouldn’t be a good partner,” he lied. In reality, he loved the gifts and the secrecy. He thought it was extremely romantic, but he certainly wasn’t going to show that vulnerability to a man who hated him. “Why do you even care if it’s sitting outside? It’s none of your business.”

Tobirama bristled. “Well, pardon me for deigning to assist you,” he growled, all hint of warmth gone from his voice. Madara winced. He probably shouldn’t have pushed so hard, but after last night, he didn’t feel he could risk getting any closer to the Senju. He had to push him away, because he was dangerously close to falling over that precipice from an inappropriate workplace crush to being all-out in love with the younger man, and he didn’t think his heart could take the rejection that would result in.

When he looked up, he found that the Senju had left, and he closed his door firmly against prying eyes before allowing himself to deflate. He sulked as he dreamt of the conversation that could have been had had he simply allowed Tobirama’s teasing, if the man didn’t hate him. How the teasing may have led to passionate kisses, and more. Madara quickly shook himself from his very explicit daydreams about the other man when he felt himself stirring, and looked around for something to distract him. 

His eyes landed on the wrapped present. Maybe opening his gift from his admirer would make him feel better. He tore into the paper, only to find a beautiful, framed decorative tessen inside. He stared in awe for a moment. The cloth was of a high-quality material, much to heavy for an actual weapon, but made for a very beautiful display piece. The main composition of the cloth was black, with a beautiful print of the Uchiha fan in the middle of it. It was obvious his admirer had had this custom-made for him. Perhaps if he could find who had made this, he would learn their identity…

Madara returned to his desk after immediately hanging the decoration, his desire to find his admirer rekindled and he attacked his task with a new hope. He quickly allowed himself to be buried in village documents, noting anyone capable of making such a beautiful object within the village. He was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t sense the fond, slightly sad gaze of red eyes fixed on him through his office window. The hair on the back of his neck stood, and he looked quickly, but the figure had already disappeared into the bustle of the village. Madara looked at the empty space suspiciously, then at his fan with a smile, and then returned to work.


	7. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama confronts Madara, with... interesting results.

Madara cringed when he heard Hashirama's booming voice coming around the corner. He sounded angry. Madara had been able to successfully evade the other man all day yesterday, not wanting to explain to yet another of their brothers that he and Tobirama had not slept together. He had actually been successfully avoiding both Senju brothers, though Tobirama seemed determined to pin Madara down and talk to him alone. However, right now, Madara was wrapped up in a conversation with one of the Nara clan nobles (whose name he could not remember for the life of him), unable to escape without clueing the damn genius in to the fact that something was up amongst the higher ranks.

Hashirama rounded the corner, and a victorious smirk crossed his face as he assessed Madara’s situation, coming to the same conclusion as the other. The look seemed so out of place on the usually friendly ninja’s face. He walked over to them, wiping the look of satisfaction from his face as he replaced it with a convincing smile. Madara would never understand how the man was so capable of hiding his anger, yet would fall into a pathetic pout at the slightest inclination of teasing. 

“Ah, Madara-sama, I was just looking for you!” he cried, smiling broadly as he grasped Madara’s shoulder, squeezing more tightly than was strictly necessary to make sure that Madara understood he was not getting away. The Nara raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh, you… you were?” he asked, trying to hide his nerves.    
“Yes! I have some important village business to attend to with you. Would you mind returning to my office with me, where we can discuss it privately?”

Madara looked from Hashirama to the Nara, who smirked. Apparently, despite Madara’s (admittedly poor) attempts, the genius had figured it out after all. “Well, if you have other business to do, I’ll leave you to it. I would hate to be troublesome,” the Nara said, smirking as he slid his hands back into his pockets and slouched away. 

Madara looked after him as long as he could before turning back to Hashirama, whose smile now lit his face but his eyes told Madara he was in trouble. As he guided Madara back to his office, he babbled at him about this and that, nothing important, but it would convince others that nothing was wrong, unless they noticed Madara’s occasional wince at the pressure of Hashirama’s nails in his shoulder. 

As soon as they reached Hashirama’s office, the Hokage threw Madara into it and slammed the door angrily. “What the  _ hell,  _ Madara? My  _ brother _ ? Out of everyone you could choose, you chose my  _ baby brother _ ?!”

Madara held his hands up in surrender, his palms sweating. “Look, Hashirama, it isn’t what they’re saying…”

“Oh, really?” Hashirama growled. “So you didn’t leave the party with Tobi?”

“Well, no, that part’s technically true…”

“And it isn’t true that you two didn’t  _ return _ to the party?”

“We- I mean, no, we didn’t…”

“And it isn’t true that you’re now  _ avoiding  _ him?!”

“Well, I mean… that’s subjective. By avoiding, do you mean…”

“I mean that you defiled my baby brother and now you’re trying to run away!” Hashirama cried. Madara winced at his volume. Well, if anyone hadn’t known about this yet, they certainly did now. 

“Hashirama, you have it all wrong…”

“Oh, really?! Do I? What part exactly is wrong? I highly doubt you let him fuck you, and it certainly seems as though you’re avoiding him. And, to make matters worse, he’s avoiding me!”

“WE DID NOT HAVE SEX!”

Hashirama stopped his tirade to look at his friend skeptically. “You expect me to believe that, Madara? All of this avoiding me, and you want me to believe that you’re not guilty?”

Madara took a deep breath. “I am sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, but.. I just didn’t want to deal with anymore of this. There’s too much going on! I already had to have this exact conversation with Izuna, though I must say there was much more encouraging the defiling of one albino shinobi than discouragement, but after that, AND having to deal with Tobirama about the rumors, I just… I didn’t want to face you yet, to explain to you that NOTHING HAPPENED. In all honesty, I figured Tobirama would tell you.” And that smug bastard was going to be getting an earful. It wasn’t at all fair that Madara should have to be the one to deal with  _ both _ of their brothers regarding this matter. 

Hashirama watched his friend with distrustful, considering eyes for what felt like forever. Finally, he sighed. “Alright, so say this is true. What were you guys actually doing when you were ‘not having sex’,” he said, air quoting. 

Madara sighed. “We were just talking. Tobirama… saved me from an uncomfortable situation at the party, and I felt I owed it to him to at least explain what he got me out of.” Madara shifted uncomfortably, afraid Hashirama would ask. Despite the fact that he knew Hashirama would sympathize with his situation (too much, he could guarantee), he hadn’t ever really wanted to tell anyone. Even Izuna didn’t know what had happened with Hikari. The only ones who had known were her, Madara, and Tajima. When Tajima had learned of it, he had sworn her to silence, and despite his death, Hikari had held her tongue. Madara was honestly afraid that it was just because she still had hope of becoming the clan head’s wife, and she knew she could kiss that goodbye if she tried to make good on her threat to go public about them. Madara cleared his throat, continuing before Hashirama got a chance to ask. “Tobirama made an excuse that we had business to attend to for the village, so we had to leave to make it seem legitimate, and we had to leave together. We went up to his office, and I explained to him. We couldn’t go back to the party because Tobirama made the matter seem urgent, and anyone with any knowledge of politics would easily know that urgent political matters take hours to hash out. So Tobirama and I talked, and when I left, he was still in his office. That’s all there is to it.”

Madara was horrified to find that Hashirama had tears in his eyes. “So, you guys… you’re getting along?!” he whispered. Madara took a step back, putting his hands out again, in defense this time. 

“Hold on, Hashirama, I think you’re getting the wrong idea…”

But Hashirama slipped past his guard, and Madara quickly found himself engulfed in a much-too-tight hug. ”Argue all you want, Madara! You can’t deny it! You said it yourself, you and Tobirama talked about something personal! Whether you want to admit it, that makes you… friends!” 

Madara’s eyes widened comically. “I can’t argue at all... if you’re choking me to death…” he managed to gasp out.

“Oh, uh… sorry,” Hashirama said, releasing him immediately and laughing sheepishly, but still grinning from ear to ear. He sighed contentedly. “You know, I always knew that if you two just sat down and got over your stubbornness, you’d get along great. You have a lot in common,” he said, beaming. 

Madara raised an eyebrow at him. “Like what?” 

Hashirama seemed to consider for a moment. “Well, it’s no fun if I tell you, now is it?” the exuberant man asked with a wink. 

Madara scowled. “Whatever. Are we good here? Believe it or not, I have work to do,” he said drily.    
Hashirama grinned brilliantly. “Of course, dearest friend! Do enjoy your day!” he said. 

Madara glared at him suspiciously. He was acting… strange, even for him. Madara considered staying to get to the bottom of… whatever this was, but he quickly shook the notion from his head. He had been letting his work pile up, and he really should be getting back to it. No more allowing this admirer nonsense or the confusing situation with Tobirama (and now Hashirama’s strange behavior) distract him. 

So, he let himself out of Hashirama’s office, but did allow himself to walk slowly back to his own to reflect on their conversation, searching for any indication as to why Hashirama had been acting so strange as he left. As he arrived in his office, his eyes narrowed. There was another present on his desk. 

He sighed, sitting behind his desk and picking it up. As he opened it, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Inside was a bottle of aspirin, and a note. “ _ For dealing with that over-exuberant dolt every day, you deserve a medal. Signed, ?” _ He chuckled slightly to himself, the knot of tension that he hadn’t realized had been forming in his chest releasing just enough for him to be comfortable. In fact, Madara found he didn’t even need the aspirin. Just the laugh was enough to help ease his stress. He smiled. He really couldn’t wait to figure out who his mystery gifter was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been racking my brain trying to come up with super awesome, characteristically significant gifts, and I thought about it today that sometimes, the best gifts are the little ones, unexpected but appreciated. Hope you liked it! And don't worry, there will still be plenty of cool gifts to come.


	8. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara has an unexpected visitor.

Madara left his office the next day a little disheartened, though he would never admit the reason. The day was more than half over, and he had never received a single gift from his admirer. It never took this long for them to show up. He began to wonder with an indescribable sadness if they had lost interest.

He felt as though his admirer’s identity was dancing tantalizingly in front of his face, and he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. The gifts he had been given made it obvious that the person knew him well, perhaps too well. The only people he could think of who were even remotely close enough to him to know these things about him were Hashirama and Izuna, and neither of them could keep a secret to save their life (which was a terrifying thought given the power both of their positions within the village). He had allowed himself to fantasize, briefly, that it was Tobirama lavishing him with these gifts but had quickly brushed the notion aside. The man may act civil towards him for Hashirama's sake, but as far as actual feelings went, Madara was fairly sure that Tobirama just enjoyed getting under his skin.

So caught up was he in his musing that he almost missed the chakra signature of the intruder in his house… almost. Just as he went to unlock his door, he sensed someone inside his house, and froze. He drew a kunai silently and pushed the door open. He looked around and, seeing nothing that caught his eye right away, he crept further into the dark house. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a velvety voice spoke from the shadows.

“You were supposed to be home hours ago,” Tobirama said, irritated.

“Wh- I-,” Madara started, but then a thought struck him and he narrowed his eyes at me younger man. “How did you know that?”

Tobirama paused for a moment, but then shrugged. “Not important,” he said casually.

Madara spluttered ungracefully. “Wha- not important?! You call stalking me and breaking into my house unimportant?! I could have killed you!”

Tobirama snorted. “I'd like to see you try.”

Madara almost raged a the Senju, but forced himself to calm down. There was no point arguing with the infuriating man, and Hashirama wasn't here to halt their no-doubt escalating argument, so it was best for both parties if Madara just gave up now. He sighed in resignation. “What do you want, Senju?”

Tobirama held something out to him, and Madara had to squint to see what it was. His heart hammered hopefully in his chest, and he reached for the lightswitch before moving to take the… papers. Papers?! Really?

Madara tried not to huff in annoyance, both at Tobirama for dashing his hopes, and at himself for allowing him to have them in the first place. It was nothing short of idiotic to think that the man standing before him had any interest in Madara in any way. “What is this?” he asked huffily.

Tobirama glanced at him before looking at the ground. “Just some stuff for work. I was looking for you at the office, and Hashirama said he thought you had gone home, so I came here looking for you…”

Madara raised an eyebrow. “Are they really that important?”

Tobirama looked as though he was going to say something, but stopped himself. “I, uh… I guess not,” he said quietly.

Madara stared at the man in confusion. “Then what are you doing here?”

Tobirama bit his lip in thought, and Madara couldn't help but watch the action intently. “I heard that Hyuga Kazuo asked you to attend the Hyuga family gathering for the holidays.”

Madara raised an eyebrow. “Yes… what of it?”

“I just… wondered if you planned to attend,” Tobirama said, not looking at the older man.

Madara bristled. “And what's it to you?”

Tobirama let out a long-suffering sigh. “The Hyuga gathering coincides with the exact time of the Senju gathering, to which you've already committed. Despite the formation of the village, the bond between our clans is still tenuous. For our to break a commitment like that, it may be hard on the alliance.”

Madara's heart clenched for some reason. “Oh. Well, not that it's any of your business, but I declined Kazuo’s invitation,” Madara said, a little aggravated. “Believe it or not, I am capable of remembering my own commitments.”

Tobirama looked up, a strange look in his eyes, and Madara frowned in confusion. “Is that the only reason you turned him down?”

Madara sighed. “What are you on about now, Senju?”

Tobirama scowled, shrugging. “You know, never mind. It doesn't matter anyway,” he muttered.

Madara was about to ask him what the hell was going on when suddenly he was gone. Madara huffed in exasperation. What the hell was that about?

Taking a deep breath, Madara cleared the incident from his mind to ponder over later. For now, he had quite a bit of housework that he had been neglecting which had piled up, and he set about doing it, if for no reason other than to keep his mind off the convoluted mess his life had become as of late. By the time the sun set, Madara had nearly completely forgotten the argument with Tobirama.

He was just about to turn in for the night when he heard a knock in his door.  He told his head in curiosity, instinctively drawing a kunai as he called for them to state their identity. He knew it was a strange manner of greeting, as the village was supposed to be establishing a sense of camaraderie, but he couldn't say he trusted everyone here yet. When he received no response, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He slunk to the door and threw it open quickly, hoping to surprise whoever may be on the other side. When he saw no one there, he looked around carefully, only to find a wrapped parcel on his doorstep. He forced himself to hide the smile that threatened to fight it's way onto his features as he quickly brought it inside.

He set it on the table, realizing he was now smiling ear to ear and his heart felt light that he hadn't been forgotten by his admirer. He read the note first, an apology for the late hour, saying his admirer had had something important to do earlier.

Madara gasped. His admirer must have been on a mission! He could use this information to figure out who it was. Briefly, he wondered if it was Hyuga Kazuo, as he had shown a clear interest in Madar today with his invitation, and made a mental note to look for the man's name in today's roster at work tomorrow. It would explain the calligraphy. After all, the Hyuga were a refined clan, and especially the main house were well-versed in the more artful nuances of culture.

When he opened it, he found a collection of soothing bath salts and oils. He frowned in confusion. He'd never heard of men using these, only women. He looked through the basket and found another note. “ _These_ _may_ _typically_ _be_ _for_ _women_ , _but_ _I_ _find_ _them_ _very_ _relaxing_. _I_ _won't_ _tell_ _if_ _you_ _don't_. _-?_ "

He looked around, eyes narrowed, as though he expected his house had eyes, before picking up the basket and carrying it upstairs to the bathroom. After all, he had been under a lot of stress lately, and really, what could it hurt?

About twenty minutes later, he was thanking the Gods and his admirer for bringing this heavenly feeling of relaxation into his life. By the time he climbed out of his bath and snuggled beneath his warm covers, all of his stresses had been forgotten for the moment, and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara makes a move, and finds a surprise in store for him.

Madara awoke the next day in a fantastic mood. He had slept better last night than he had in weeks, and was feeling refreshed and invigorated. It also had him even more curious and excited to find his secret admirer. They were clearly sensitive and thoughtful, and Madara hoped he could find them by Christmas so he could break away from Hashirama long enough to spend some time with them. 

When he arrived at work,he had a very productive day, unbothered by stresses or distractions. He had gotten most of his backlogged work completed, and would be able to do the rest when he returned after the holiday. He smiled as he locked up his office, thinking about how his had been a perfect end to the week before a holiday weekend. Admittedly, he hadn't been able to find Hyuga Kazuo's name on the mission roster, he hadn't given up yet. Though he was a little disappointed that his admirer couldn't be who he wanted it to, Kazuo was a good man, as well, and would make for an excellent partner. He was attractive, intelligent, and thoughtful, though none of those things as much as a certain albino water-user. However, he was also much more well-mannered towards Madara, thereby making him attainable. 

Madara wiped the slight frown that had appeared on his face, replacing it with a charming smile when his destination came into view and his target was standing right outside, chatting with a colleague who Madara wasn't sure he was familiar with. He stepped up to them and could practically hear Kazuo's heartbeat falter. “Afternoon, gentlemen,” he purred.

Kazuo's companion greeted him nervously. He didn't pay him much mind; it wasn't uncommon for people to treat him this way. Either they were attracted to him or feared him, it seemed. Madara didn't know which way this particular man fell and, quite frankly, he didn't care. He had his eyes on another objective. Kazuo was smiling hesitantly at him. “H-hello, Madara-sama.”

Madara grinned brilliantly at him. “Kazuo-san! Just the man I was looking for!” 

Kazuo's eyes widened. “R-really?”

Madara laughed. “Of course. Would I lie to you, Kazuo-san?” he asked, running a finger up and down the man's arm teasingly. When his companion saw Madara's action, his eyes widened and he fled, stuttering some poor excuse that neither of the others bothered listening to. 

“Well, I'm happy to help in anyway I can, of course, Madara-sama.”

Madara laughed. “Please, Kazuo, I do hope I'm not being too forward, but let's drop the honorifics for tonight. I was disappointed that I'm unable to attend your gathering this weekend, so I hoped that perhaps I could buy you a drink to make up for it. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the bar behind him. Kazuo nodded dumbly, seemingly astonished by his luck. 

Madara gave the man a charming smile as he led him inside. He grabbed them a table and some drinks, and Kazuo was still staring in amazement when he returned. He handed the man his drink, and he downed half of it in one go. Madara raised an eyebrow in amusement, but decided to ignore it for now. After all, many hit on Madara, few received a warm response. It was unsurprising that he wouldn't be nearly as confident having the offer accepted as he had been making it. 

Madara began conversing with the man, and was glad to find that the conversation flowed freely. Kazuo was good company, smiling and laughing at all the right times, and Madara found himself naturally drawn towards the friendly man until they were only inches apart, their thighs touching under the table as Madara slid his hand over Kazuo's. The younger man jolted, and Madara smirked seductively. “So, Kazuo,” he started, his fingers tracing slow, circular patterns on the back of the other man’s hand. “I got this  _ lovely  _ little gift yesterday. Would you care to come back to my house and help me use it?” 

The other man swallowed hard. He leaned in, and Madara was about to close the distance between their lips when he heard a loud bang. He jerked away from the other man with a start, and turned towards the source of the noise, only to see Hashirama standing in the doorway, eyes crazed and head turning wildly. As soon as the Hokage’s eyes landed on him, he bounded over, reaching him in three steps. Madara watched his friend with concern. 

“Hashirama, what the hell has gotten into you?!” he asked, his eyes wide. 

Hashirama looked at him in a panic. “Madara, it’s urgent… we need you at the tower right away!” Hashirama cried, grabbing Madara’s hand and dragging him out of the bar. 

Madara glanced behind him at the panicked and confused Kazuo. “Sorry about this, we’ll have to catch up later!” he called out to the man still staring dumbly after them. 

When they were outside, Madara tried to wrest control of his hand from his best friend, but found himself unable. “What the hell is this all about, Hashirama?” he growled, both concerned and angry. Hashirama didn’t answer, just kept pulling, which caused Madara to be even more worried. 

When they reached the tower, Hashirama immediately locked them in his office and sat down behind his desk with a sigh of relief. Madara raised an eyebrow at him, his expression the perfect mix of confusion and deadly anger. “Hashirama, you had better damn hope that someone is dying, or it will be you. What the hell is going on here?! Could you not tell that I was on a date?!”

Though Madara didn’t know how he managed it, the other man’s face managed to get  _ more _ panicked. “A date?!” he squeaked out. He cleared his throat and his next words came in a more normal tone, although with a shifty gaze around that caused Madara to narrow his eyes at his friend. “A date! With Hyuga Kazuo?! Why would you be on a date with Kazuo? I- I mean, what about your admirer?!” he cried. 

Madara raised an eyebrow. “And who says Kazuo can’t be my admirer?” he asked. 

Hashirama flushed. “I- I mean… he just…” Hashirama trailed off, refusing to look his best friend in the eye. 

Madara’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Hashirama, do you know who has been leaving me gifts?” he asked dangerously, stepping towards the other predatorily. 

Hashirama’s eyes now flew to Madara, and there was sheer panic there. “Wh- me?! No, friend, of course not, I would never-” 

Just then, the door flew open and in strode Tobirama, looking as unruffled as ever, even as he surveyed the strange scene before him with a raised eyebrow. 

“TOBIIII!” the man’s older brother cried, flinging himself out of his seat and running to hide behind him. Madara raised an eyebrow at that. For one thing, Madara knew Tobirama was strong, but it was common knowledge in the village that the only one truly strong enough to defeat Madara was Hashirama himself (as unbelievable as that was at moments like this), so hiding behind someone Madara could defeat was not the best strategy. Though, in all reality, he had a feeling that these days, he would lose. He couldn’t bear the thought of harming the other man. 

Secondly, it was well known that Tobirama was as tolerable of Hashirama’s shenanigans as Madara, if not less so. He had, after all, had to put up with them his entire life, so it was entirely understandable that he would tire of them more quickly. As a general rule, he would hiraishin out, and leave Hashirama to his fate. When questioned about it by that infamous pout, he would simply say that karma always won out in the end. However, Madara squinted in suspicion when Tobirama did not leave Hashirama to his fate, or even step out of Madara’s way, despite (what he hoped was) a fearful growl leaving his own lips. Tobirama just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“What did you do now, anija?” he asked tiredly. 

Hashirama shrieked as Madara lunged towards him, intent on getting to him whether or not Tobirama was in the way. Suddenly, the coward disappeared. Tobirama, meanwhile, had not, and Madara found himself wide-eyed, eye to eye with Tobirama’s look of mild surprise. Their lips were pressed together, and Madara found that he had to jump away suddenly in order to prevent himself from melting in to the kiss, and the broad shinobi’s gorgeous body, but found himself unable to as Tobirama had grabbed his arms to halt his forward motion, and was still holding him in place. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the younger man for a few moments, but when he did, Tobirama seemed amused. “Well, since my lovely brother has seemingly disappeared, perhaps you can inform me why I was summoned at this late hour on a holiday weekend with such urgency?”

Madara was pretty sure his jaw hit the ground. He had just kissed  _ Senju Tobirama _ , and he was still alive?! “Wh- I- what?” he squeaked, unable to even manage the mental capacity to kick himself for how pathetic he was acting. 

Tobirama raised an eyebrow in amusement, and tried again. “The crisis, Madara, what is it?”

Madara shook himself, shaking Tobirama’s hands off his arms. “Oh, I don’t know. That blithering idiot came running into my date, screaming about some crisis, dragged me here and took off before he even said anything!”

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Date? You were on a date?”

Madara huffed. “As a matter of fact, yes, I was, Senju. Does that surprise you? I’ll have you know I’m very desirable!”

Tobirama was looking at him with amusement again, before his small smile quickly faded into a look of thought. “Who were you with, even?”

Madara stiffened. “Not that it is any of your business, but I was out with Hyuga Kazuo. I figured that, since I had to decline his invitation, perhaps we could get together at some other time, so I found him and asked him for a drink.”

Tobirama huffed in annoyance. “And why on Earth would you date that stuck-up dolt?”

Madara bristled. “Dolt? Do you even know him?”

Tobirama sighed. “Yes, I do. He’s extraordinarily dull, and the last original idea he had was his decision to remove that poor creature from his jaw, and thank the Gods for that.”

Madara took a deep breath. Fighting with Tobirama, especially at this hour, was not worth it, and he just wanted to go home and escape this situation. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you today, Senju. Seeing as how the ass that called us both here is gone with no explanation, I think it’s safe for us to assume that the village is safe for the time being, and we can go home.”

He turned to head out the door, but was surprised when a hand darted out and grabbed his wrist. He turned around, eyes wide, and saw Tobirama biting his lip, looking almost shy. 

“Do… do you intend to continue seeing Kazuo?”

Madara shook his head to clear it of this strangeness. He sighed. “I don’t know. Perhaps, but I have some things to clear up first.” 

Tobirama’s head tilted in question. “Things like what?”

“Like my admirer. I need to know who they are before I can do anything else.”

Tobirama released his wrist. “So, you… you are more interested in them than anyone else?”

Madara sighed again, but just nodded. Tobirama continued. “Do you have any idea who they are?”

Madara looked the younger man in the eyes. “I know who I hope they are.” 

Tobirama swallowed. “And… is that Kazuo?”

“Decidedly not,” Madara whispered, before turning to leave before Tobirama could stop him. He was honestly surprised, and a little disappointed, when the younger man didn’t follow him. He didn’t think he could have been any more obvious about his hopes, and since Tobirama hadn’t responded, he was sure the man must not be interested. He was very disappointed and a little upset by this, but he shook it off. He had known this whole time that it was unlikely. He wouldn’t let this deter him from learning the individual’s true identity. 

When he arrived at home, he found a package on his steps. It had been snowing earlier in the day, and the package was covered with a light dusting, so it was clear that it had been there for a while. He wondered how long, but didn’t have the energy tonight. He brought it inside, and opened it. Inside the package was a book, and on top of the book a note. “ _ This is one of my personal favorites, I hope you enjoy it as well. -? _ ” 

He looked at it, and smiled. It was a fiction series centering around the feudal lord of a made-up country and the many tribulations he faced in attempting to marry off his headstrong daughter. He had heard good things about, though he couldn’t remember who he had been talking to. He sighed, taking the book and heading straight to bed. He intended to allow the story to draw him away from his over-dramatic for a chapter or two, but was quickly drawn in. He was almost halfway through the book by the time his body gave in, and he fell asleep with the story still open in his hands, a faint smile on his lips. 


	10. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara is sick, and he is not a good patient.

The next day, Madara was sick. He groaned as he started to sit up, and immediately cursed the attempt. He felt like hell, and he was cursing every god he knew of for making him sick. He let himself fall back against the bed, instantly regretting the action as it jarred his sinuses painfully. He was extremely thirsty, but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. He coughed violently before resting back down, feeling a little light-headed. He fell back into an uncomfortable sleep. 

He awoke again several hours later to a loud banging. He coughed, struggling to stand, but found he was too weak. He fell back, but just seconds later heard the door open. “Madara?” Hashirama called hesitantly.

Madara almost cried with relief. Normally, he would be furious at Hashirama for entering his home without express permission, but on this particular day, he had to say he was pretty grateful for Hashirama's lack of understanding about personal boundaries. He only hoped that Hashirama would see nothing wrong with coming into his bedroom uninvited. He certainly didn't think he would be able to call out to the man with how raw his throat felt. He heard his bedroom door crack open and closed his eyes against the sudden light. “Madara?” Hashirama whispered into the darkness. Well, at least, what amounted to a whisper for Hashirama. 

Madara let out a barely audible groan from the bed, and heard a gasp. The door closed surprisingly gently, and after just a moment, he felt the bed beside him dip. A concerned hand was laid on his forehead, and he heard Hashirama coo gently, “Madara, do you know what time it is?” He shook his head and Hashirama sighed. “You are quite feverish, Madara… how do you feel?”

Madara was only able to croak, “Dying… heal… please…”

Hashirama laughed gently. “Well, it may feel like it, but I promise you’re not dying. Unfortunately, though, I can’t heal a cold,” he said, looking almost guilty. 

Madara whimpered pathetically, and could practically hear Hashirama’s heartstrings twinge. ‘Bu-but Tobi might have something that can help!” he cried in desperation, jumping off the bed. They were both surprised when a hand weakly closed around his wrist.    
“No… no Tobi- rama,” Madara managed. 

Hashirama sighed. “Why not? Did you two have a fight again?”

“No fight… hates me…”

Hashirama stared at his best friend in disbelief for a moment before looking down, chuckling softly as he shook his head. “Madara, I know you two had a rough start, but… you’re a fool if you honestly think Tobirama hates you.” Despite his somewhat harsh words, Hashirama was looking at him softly. He tugged his hand free with ease and brought Tobirama a glass of water, which the other man gratefully drank, and then left, presumably to get his brother. 

Madara felt a little better after having a drink and quickly drifted back to sleep. When he awoke later, it was to hands touching his forehead. He instantly jerked and smacked at the offending limbs as much as his weak body would allow, earning him an amused chuckle and raised eyebrow from the younger Senju brother. Tobirama smiled at him, and Madara wasn’t entirely sure that his body didn’t catch fire. 

“Sorry for startling you, I was putting a fever-reducing salve on your forehead. Helps the heat to escape faster, shortening your recovery period.” Tobirama managed to get Madara sitting further up, and held out a bowl. “I also brought some soup for you. You need to eat, to keep up your strength.” 

Madara glared at the younger man, especially when he wouldn’t let him take the bowl. 

“You’re still very unsteady. Just swallow your pride and let me help you for once, Uchiha,” Tobirama muttered. Madara grudgingly acquiesced, and allowed the other man to bring the spoon to his lips. He couldn’t deny that it tasted good, like his body knew this was what it needed, and he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until it had hit his lips. Before he knew it, he had drunk half the bowl with Tobirama’s help, before he was overtaken by another coughing fit, and Tobirama deemed that he had had enough to sustain himself, and he could finish it later. He reached for something else that he had brought as well. 

“I have a medicinal concoction for you to take, if you feel up to it?” Madara nodded weakly, and grudgingly allowed the other man to help him sit up when he struggled on his own. Madara took the concoction from the white-haired man, but before he could take a drink, Tobirama spoke again, causing him to bring the cup down from his lips. “Fair warning, it tastes like hell, but it will help, and quickly.”

Madara scowled at him, but took a drink. The younger man wasn’t wrong; it was awful. Still, he forced himself to drink it all, and then made an attempt to sit up. Tobirama pushed him back down, his expression amused. “Where do you think you’re going, sicko?” he asked teasingly. 

Madara glared and forced his voice to be as normal as possible, though nearly flinched at how hoarse he sounded. “I have responsibilities, Senju.” His glare may have been more effective if he hadn’t started coughing violently as soon as he finished speaking (though probably not; this was Tobirama he was dealing with, the man was infuriatingly calm about everything).

Tobirama laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. I think, in fact, that you’ll find in just a minute, you are a bit too tired to do just about anything.” The younger man smirked, and Madara’s eyes widened. 

“Wh-what did you... do… to me…” he asked, already starting to feel the effects of whatever had been in that medicine. His brain started to panic as his baser instincts told him what he knew; he was alone in a room with a Senju, one who had just managed to drug him, and he had no way to protect himself. But surprisingly, he found that rather than concern, he felt safe that it was Tobirama that was here with him. 

Tobirama smiled gently, and Madara’s heart fluttered. “Just a mild sedative. It’s only to help you rest, as I know how much trouble you have with that when you  _ aren’t  _ ill. However, right now, it is especially important for you to get some sleep, so I will leave so you can do so comfortably.”

At that, Madara started to panic. His eyes widened, and he found himself staring at Tobirama’s face just inches from his as he had unconsciously pulled the man down towards him until his only option was to put a knee on the bed to catch himself. “Stay… please…” he requested, his head already starting to fade into sleep, but still conscious enough for the shinobi in him to make sure his partner was looking out for him. 

Tobirama looked surprised, but pleased at Madara’s reaction, but his expression quickly clouded with bitterness. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I get Kazuo?” he asked drily. 

Madara found it in him to scoff. “Jealous…” he muttered.

Tobirama looked amused. “Of course I am. You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, brushing sweat-slick hair from Madara’s fevered forehead, amused to see how wide the older man’s eyes had become at his admission. Unfortunately, the drug he had administered to Madara would leave him with only vague recollections of this conversation, or Tobirama was not sure he would be able to be so open. 

Madara frowned sleepily. “If that’s… the case… then why don’t you… do something about it?” he asked.

Tobirama looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t believe that that would be appreciated,” he muttered. “Ow!”

Madara had pinched his cheek, and he smiled as he watched the man struggle to form words. “Want you… Only thought… Kazuo was… admirer…” he managed.

Tobirama raised an eyebrow as Madara's attempt to poke him in the nose failed epically and he instead jabbed his finger quite hard into his cheekbone. He chuckled slightly as he regarded the older man with a look of amusement. “Is that so?” He leaned in closer to Madara's ear, slightly saddened that he knew Madara wouldn't remember this in the morning, and whispered against his ear ”then why is it that  _ I'm  _ the one here taking care of you, and not him?”

Madara pulled back, a frown on his face as he thought over the other man’s words. He quickly shrugged them off, however, and nestled down in the covers further. Tobirama had to resist the urge to kiss his forehead as he closed his eyes and sank into sleep. 

The younger man went to sit in the armchair in the corner, picking up the book Madara had on the side table and smiling. His favorite. He settled in to start reading, intending to stick around at least until Madara's fever broke, but another hour found him slouched in the chair, book dangling from his fingers as he dreamed peacefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering about the gift this chapter, I promise I didn't forget about it! Given Madara's delirium, he didn't notice it's suspicious appearance in his room at the exact time that Tobirama happened to arrive... strange, isn't it? Lol


	11. Day 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Uchiha Christmas party is afoot, and along with it, some holiday hijinx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soo sorry this posting is so late! I got caught up in last minute wrapping! I promise I'll make it up to everyone following this in the form of smutty goodness with today's chapter! ;)

When Madara woke the next day he was surprised and relieved to find how good he felt. He could tell that he wasn't at a hundred percent yet, but he would definitely be able to get up and take care of things now. He groaned as he thought about all of the things that he had failed to complete yesterday due to this stupid illness. He had been supposed to be getting things ready for the Uchiha clan’s Christmas party that was tonight. There had been arrangements to finalize, decorations to hang (a part that he hated, but he was clan head; he couldn't be seen shirking such a menial duty), and he had been expected to be there to supervise all of it. He was afraid that without him there, it hadn't gotten done and would have to be rushed. 

He sighed as he sat himself up, looking around the room. His eyes grew curious as they fell upon a wrapped box on his dresser, and he smiled. He didn't remember that being there… how did his admirer get in without him seeing them? He thought about it as he crossed the room to grab the present. Hashirama had been here yesterday, that much he remembered. Perhaps it had been waiting outside and Hashirama had brought it in with him? Or… he gasped as he remembered that Tobirama had been here as well, forced upon him by his overly-concerned older brother, no doubt. 

He struggled, trying to remember what all had happened after the albino had arrived, but found the memory very foggy. He even tried using his Sharingan to clear it up, but was unable. That could mean only one thing: that bleached bastard had drugged him!

His fury overtook him for a second, but he took a few deep breaths, knowing that Hashirama would be upset if he tried to kill his little brother. He instead turned his attention back to his present. The note was affixed to the top of it. “ _ Sorry you're sick, but I wanted to make sure you knew I didn't forget about you. I could never forget about you ;)” _ Madara was glad no one could see him, as he was blushing just reading the note.

He looked at the package curiously. It was small and narrow. He opened it, only to find… an empty picture frame? His heart pounded as he opened it, hoping to find a picture of a certain someone, thereby revealing his admirer's identity. Instead, he found another blasted note. “ _ Sorry to get your hopes up, but I promise that as soon as we meet, I'll fill this with pictures of us. And I mean, pictures of  _ _ everything _ _ ;) _ ”

Madara blushed as he read the note, both out of anger about the tease and embarrassment about the obvious innuendo. He decided to instead focus on the frame. It was nice, silver with gems encrusted in it in an intricate pattern along the bottom edge. Sapphires, probably for the Uchiha navy. Rubies, for the Sharingan, Madara assumed. And diamonds for… what, exactly? Filler? He frowned as he considered it, but then glanced at the clock and flung himself out of bed. It was already 9:30! He threw on his clothes and disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving the frame on top of the sheets.

When Madara arrived at the party venue, he was surprised to find that all of the things that have needed done yesterday were… actually done? Who had done all of this. Just as he was looking around in wonder, Izuna strolled up to him, looking smug. “So, how's it look, brother?” 

Madara turned his shocked gaze to his younger brother. He knew that look. “You… you did all this?” 

Izuna shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Yeah, Hashirama mentioned you weren't feeling well, so I took it upon myself to get the job done. So… what do you think?”  

Despite how hard the younger Uchiha tried to hide it, Madara could hear how badly Izuna wanted his approval in his voice. Izuna had been only 6 when their father died,so Madara was the only father figure he had ever really known. While he was a very independent soul, and Madara knew this and took pride in the boy's sense of achievement, he still craved Madara's approval, and something about that warmed the depths of the supposedly heartless Uchiha’s heart. 

He gave his brother a rare soft smile. “It looks great, otouto. Thank you,” he murmured, pulling his brother close for a hug more rare than his smile.

Izuna stiffened for a moment in surprise before he relaxed into his brother’s hold, allowing Madara to hug him. He smiled at the unfamiliar, but welcome, gesture of comfort. “You know, anija, I like it when you’re like this. Less strict, more… nurturing.” 

Madara started at that. He had never thought of himself as nurturing. He was about to question Izuna when he glanced to the door, and his eyebrows rose in shock. Hashirama had just entered and was wringing his hands excitedly, and beside him stood someone that Madara could  _ hardly _ recognize as Tobirama. The younger Senju was wearing a scowl and a complete, perfect… Santa suit. Madara gaped. 

Izuna stared for a moment in stunned silence before he broke into a full-on laugh. He walked over to the brothers, clapping a hand on Hashirama’s shoulder and wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “God, Hashirama, how the hell did you get him to put  _ that _ on?”

Tobirama glared at him as Hashirama smiled serenely. “Oh, I have my ways,” he smirked. Madara raised an eyebrow. 

Tobirama interrupted Hashirama before he could continue. “So, what am I doing in this ridiculous outfit anyway?”

Izuna grinned and led Tobirama over to a large, throne-looking chair, explaining to him how kids would come to him, sit on his lap, and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. Madara could practically hear Tobirama’s eyebrow raising the further Izuna got into his explanation. “Doesn’t that sound a bit… pedophilic… to you?” the Senju asked. 

Madara couldn’t even hear his brother’s offended scoff over his own laughter. “How the hell did you manage that?” he asked his best friend. 

Hashirama smiled. “Tobi will do  _ anything _ for kids. He loves the little devils,” he said. 

Madara and Hashirama quickly dissolved into political chit chat from that point as Madara meandered around, fixing various things and ensuring everything was ready for tonight, Hashirama following him like a puppy.

Finally, the hour drew later, and the party began. Delegates from every clan were there, mostly the heads and their heirs, but sme clans had brought others. Madara knew it was a sign of wariness, though Hashirama was determined to paint it as an offer of goodwill. As the party dragged on and the alcohol flowed, tongues became looser, and the clans actually began to interact. Madara allowed the smallest of smiles to slip over his face at the sight. It meant this party, which had been a pain in the ass to plan, had been worth it, even if the alliances were just until the hangover wore off. He turned his attention to the real star of the crowd, at least in his mind. Tobirama-Santa currently had one of the Uchiha children, Kagami, on his lap, and Kagami was regaling him with tales of what he wanted for Christmas tomorrow. 

When Kagami finally stuttered to a halt, his eyes fell upon Madara, and became alight with excitement. He hopped off of Tobirama’s lap and ran over to Madara, surprising the older man by grabbing his hand. 

The older Uchiha’s eyes widened when he realized that Kagami was tugging him towards Tobirama. “Madara-sama, you need to tell Santa what  _ you _ want for Christmas!” he cried.

Madara stared at the child in shock. “I assure you, Kagami, he probably already knows,” he tried. 

The child shook his head resolutely. “No, no, you have to tell him, or he might get it wrong. Come on, Madara-sama, pleeeasse?” 

Madara was horrified to find that when he looked down, a beady pair of eyes was watching him pleadingly. But Madara was battle-worn, tough, able to resist the strongest jutsu. Certainly, no child with his puppy dog eyes could… Madara’s train of thought cut off as he found himself on the lap of a very amused Tobirama. He stared into ruby-red eyes in abject horror, paralyzed. 

He felt a hand on the small of his back, and it took everything he had in him not to jump in horror. He wanted to glare at Tobirama, but that would alert the extremely astute Uchiha children to the fact that there was something going on, and they would never stop pestering him until they figured out what it was. 

He did, however, glare at the pale man when that hand started rubbing circles into his back, almost soothingly. He resisted the urge to lean into the touch. 

“Go on, Madara-sama, tell him what you want!” Kagami cried. 

Madara did jolt at that. In all reality, he had forgotten there was anyone else in the room except he and Tobirama. “Uh… I, uh…” Madara struggled to come up with anything. He was, after all, clan head. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and if he wanted something, he just got it. There wasn’t really anything he had ever asked another person to give him. He thought about how his life might change due to the construction of the village, and a thought came to mind. Something he couldn’t assure by himself. 

“I want a safe place for you children. One where you can grow, and learn, and be protected. Where you can be  _ kids _ ,” he murmured. 

He felt the hand stop on his back, and when he looked up, he found Hashirama watching him with tear-filled eyes. Even Izuna’s black orbs looked a little watery. He turned to Tobirama, and was surprised to see that the expression in his face was not contempt, or mockery, but admiration. Reverence, even. “Is that so?” the costumed man said quietly. 

Madara nodded resolutely, turning to the children. “Of course, that means you all have to try  _ very _ hard to impress your sensei’s when they are assigned to you, right?”

He smiled when he received a chorus of “Yes, Madara-sama”’s.

He was so focused talking to the children, he forgot he was still on Tobirama’s lap, and missed the questioning glance of Hashirama towards his brother, as well as the younger’s nod. When Hashirama herded the children to the sweets table, Madara realized with a jolt the position he was in. He quickly moved to get up, only to find that Tobirama was holding him in place, his thumb circling slowly over his lower back again. 

“So, you want a safe place for the children,” the younger man murmured. 

Madara sighed in irritation to hide the fluttering in his chest. “Of course I do. That’s why we built the village, why we’re struggling so hard against what seems like a never-ending tide of hatred to try and make this work.” 

When Tobirama was silent, Madra turned to see his eyes slightly wide. Madara had apparently surprised the Senju with his outburst. He was about to say something when Tobirama leaned in. “That is quite possibly the sweetest thing I have ever heard you say,” he said. 

Madara shivered at the low tone the other used. He wondered why he was speaking so, but their faces were so close together, and Madara couldn’t think. To make matters worse, it seemed as if Tobirama was coming closer, his face now just inches from Madara’s. Madara panicked, knowing he should get up but unable to bring himself to do so. 

Suddenly, Madara heard a throat being cleared. He looked up to see Uchiha Hana, blushing as she stood staring at the ground. “Pardon, Madara-sama, but… it’s time to open the presents…” she said, chancing a glance at the older men. 

Madara jumped up. He refused to process the despairing look he saw on his best friend’s face, or the glare his brother was giving Hana, and didn’t dare look back at Tobirama. “O-of course, let’s get started…” he managed. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, Madara successfully avoided those three. They were clearly up to something, and Madara told himself he wanted none of it. He wouldn’t even look in their direction, in the event that he would see something that would pique his curiosity and draw him in. 

When the presents had been dispersed, he was surprised when Kagami came up and handed him a present. “Here, Madara-sama, this one is for you!” he said proudly. 

Madara’s eyebrow went up. “From who?” he muttered. 

Kagami frowned. “It doesn’t say. It just has this,” he said, handing Madara a slip of paper. 

Madara took the slip with narrowed eyes, opening it. “ _ These will serve you well, I think. Remind me to show you how to use them properly -?” _

Madara frowned in confusion as he opened the gift. He found a beautifully carved wooden box inside, and within the box, a gorgeous set of shuriken. He huffed, slightly offended that his admirer would think that he, an Uchiha, needed assistance in shuriken jutsu. 

Although, he had to admit, he had never seen shuriken quite like this before. Their tips darted a little towards the sides at the very end, and were sharp on both sides of the edges. They also had strange engravings that Madara didn’t recognize. 

When Kagami reached for one, Madara quickly snapped the box shut. When Kagami looked as though he would cry, Madara pulled the young child to him without a thought. “You need to be careful, child! You could hurt yourself, those are very sharp and you are still young,” he said quietly. He knew that in their day and age, Kagami would already be skilled with shuriken. While he certainly didn’t think it was bad for children to learn self-defense, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to protect the precious child’s innocence as long as possible. Children like Kagami were a gift to all around them, and he refused to be the one to stand in the way of that childlike enthusiasm the boy threw into everything he did. He smiled as he turned Kagami to face him. “Now, I am very busy right now, but come and find me in two weeks. We will start shuriken training then, alright?” he said with a smile. 

Kagami stared at him in wonder. The clan head  _ never _ took on students! It was unheard of! It was especially strange given Madara’s position in the village as well. Kagami nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, Madara-sama! I promise, I won’t disappoint, I’ll go start practicing right now!” he cried. 

He tried to run off, but a large hand caught his tiny wrist. “Oh, I don’t think so, child, Madara said sternly. He turned the child to face him, a serious look. “This is no joke. You will not start practicing without me or another adult over the age of 20 under  _ any _ circumstances, do you hear me?”

Kagami nodded, swallowing hard at the tone of his clan head’s voice. What if he had ruined it already? But Madara’s smile returned with Kagami’s nod, and he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Alright, now run along. I have work to do, but a promise is a promise. I will teach you.”

Madara returned to the party, unaware of the eyes that followed him around the room. Tobirama smiled as he watched Madara interact with other clan heads. Oh, yes, there was  _ definitely _ no way he was giving up now. 


	12. Day 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it all makes sense, and Madara couldn't be any happier.

The next day, Madara was pleased that his morning was going just according to plan. He and Izuna had eaten a traditional Christmas breakfast together and exchanged small gifts. They had then spent the late morning and early afternoon as that saw fit. Izuna had disappeared to "help with set-up for the Senju party”. In other words, he needed an excuse to impress Touka. Madara had spent the day gathering his gifts from his admirer and examining them for meaning to determine who his admirer was. Looking at them all together, he could tell that the person was close to him. The person had to spend time with him to know all of these things about him that had led to the purchase of these gifts.

He sat, looking at them as he turned one of the shuriken over again and again in his fingers. He sighed as he glanced at the clock. He left the gifts spread on his bed as he got ready.

When he arrived at the Senju party, he found Izuna trailing after Touka pathetically, and he rolled his eyes. He saw several other clan heads had already arrived. Some, seemed comfortable after the ice breaker that was last night,and while others, like Hyuga clan head, who had agreed to stop in for just a moment for the sake of the alliance, were standing awkwardly. Madara saw Kazuo standing by his father and nodded in acknowledgement. Kazuo smiled brightly, and started to walk over to Madara. Madara returned his smile, and took a single step towards the other man before he found himself forcefully spun around and engulfed in a hug. Fortunately for Hashirama, Madara had grown used to his chakra enough that he didn't attack, but he did glare at the man when he was finally released. “Madara! So glad you made it!”

Madara sighed. “Of course I did. I'm not going to refuse to honor a commitment made as head of my clan,” he commented. He turned his head to where Kazuo had been stepping towards him, only to be surprised that the man was nowhere to be found. Before he could search the crowd for him, Hashirama was dragging him off across the room. “I want you to meet my cousins!” 

Madara sighed. He spent the next three hours being dragged around the room being introduced to obscure Senju cousins. He tried to escape several times unsuccessfully, even imploring Tobirama, but the man just laughed at him and walked away. 

After he had been sufficiently exhausted by tedious conversation, Madara was finally able to find Izuna. “Why do I agree to do things like this?” he asked his brother. 

Izuna laughed. “Oh, by the way, Tobirama was looking for you,” he said. 

Madara looked at Izuna in confusion. “What do you mean? I just saw the man, and he didn't say anything,” he said, scowling. 

Izuna shrugged. “He told me that you're supposed to come find him when you're done here. That's all I know.” 

Madara glared suspiciously at his brother. He felt as though he wasn't getting the full story, but he let it go. He searched the crowd for a familiar head of white hair, but unable to find it, allowed himself to be pulled into conversation with the head of the Kamizuki clan, who had just recently joined the village and was still a relatively new entity to the founders. 

After another hour or two, the party started winding down. Madara had mingled with quite a few of the clan heads, but had been unable to find Tobirama. Eventually, he had given up finding the man, deciding he would go and find him tomorrow at work. Clearly, it wasn't that important if Tobirama hadn't come to find him. He said his goodbyes and headed home. 

As he walked home, gentle snow fell, and he didn't rush, enjoying the peace of it all. This was what they had created the village for, and he often felt that with how busy he was between the village and the clan, he didn't get the time to truly enjoy the peace he had helped to establish. As he walked, he thought about his admirer. He had to admit, he was rather disappointed that Tobirama hadn't revealed himself to be his admirer, but then, he had refused to acknowledge until just now that he had even wanted it because he had known it wouldn't happen. Still, it was saddening to know that the man he was attracted to did not return his affections. He thought of his admirer, and wondered if he would have something waiting for him when he got home. He began to walk faster, excited by the thought. 

About halfway home, he got impatient and ran. As his home came into view, he looked closely, but slowed as he neared the door. There was no package. He frowned but slowly let himself inside. He rid himself of his winter wear slowly, taking the time to carefully put everything where it belonged. He considered staying up, but figured since no one was here, there was no point. Based on the way Izuna had been supporting a very drunk Touka, he didn't expect to see his younger brother tonight. 

So instead Madara headed straight to his room. 

What he saw when he stepped foot in his room made him freeze midstep. His eyes practically bulged out in his head as he stared at Tobirama’s pale form stretched naked on his bed, the only thing protecting his modesty the big red bow that was draped over his hips and sat directly above his crotch. “I-you-wh-what?” Madara spluttered. 

Tobirama swallowed from his position lying on his side, head resting on one fist. He was clearly trying to look comfortable despite his nervousness. “Good evening, Madara. I apologize that your present is a little late. I expected you earlier.” 

Madara's brain blanked at that. Had Tobirama been lying just like this, sexily displayed waiting on his bed for  _ two hours?  _ Everything in Madara’s mind stopped working, and it all came down to one word, a word that he forced out despite his inner self screaming at him to stop: “Why?” He winced at how hoarse his voice sounded, embarrassed by how affected he was by this turn of events. He was already half hard. 

Tobirama looked surprised by his question. “Are you disappointed?” he asked nervously. 

Madara laughed slightly as he shook his head, allowing his eyes to rake over Tobirama’s body hungrily. “Not at all. I just… you hate me.”

Tobirama stared in disbelief. “After all the gifts I’ve given you these past two weeks, you still think that?”

Madara’s eyes shot wide. “So it was you…” he breathed. 

Tobirama laughed. “How did you not know?”

Madara bit his lip, but didn’t answer. “So, this… is  _ this _ supposed to be today’s gift?”

Tobirama laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Madara just stared, and Tobirama began to feel uncomfortable. Was it possible he had misread the signs? Did Madara not want this? Suddenly, however, he found a heavy weight pressing him into the bed, and lips were on his as a bare chest pressed against his. Tobirama’s eyes widened as wild hair obscured his vision as the man who was now slipping out of his pants  _ finally  _ claimed his mouth. He moaned into the passionate kiss, especially as Madara’s hand ripped the bow from him and grasped his hard cock. 

“Nng… Madara…” he breathed. The older man growled possessively as his lips slipped down to Tobirama’s throat, sucking possessive bruises into the skin there. 

“You’re mine, Senju,” he growled. 

Tobirama whimpered at how much he loved the sound of that. “Mm, yes… all yours,” he gasped. 

With that, Madara disappeared, but Tobirama didn’t even have time to look for the man before he was laying beside him, squirting lube onto two fingers. 

“Can’t wait… need you now,” the raven-haired ninja breathed, his eyes dark with lust and desperation. The combination made Tobirama breathless. He didn’t even try to resist as Madara’s fingers slipped down over his balls to circle around his hole, and then slowly slid inside. Madara teased for a minute and Tobirama tried to push down to get the digits further inside. Madara chuckled and suddenly thrust them all the way in, and Tobirama cried out in pleasure as the fingers inside him started scissoring, but never hitting where he needed them. 

“Madara, I swear to God, if you're not inside me in 10 seconds, I'm going to…” Tobirama growled through his teeth. 

However, what Tobirama would do, the world would never know, as Madara chose just that moment to begin a relentless assault on Tobirama's previously neglected prostate, and the pale man's angry speech cut off with a lewd moan. Madara watched in fascination as Tobirama threw back his head, moans spilling freely from his mouth as his fists clenched desperately at Madara's black silk sheets. The raven-haired man smirked and decided to tease further, drawing Tobirama's leaking cock into his mouth and earning a whimper from the younger man as his prize. He worked the man's hard length with his mouth as his fingers continued their assault inside him, until finally, he heard the sexiest breathless plea he'd ever heard. “Madara… Madara, please…” Tobirama shamelessly begged. 

Madara could have come from that sound alone, but he just let out a possessive growl as his fingers slipped from the younger man with a wet pop. He quickly rose up Tobirama's body, leaving rushed kisses and licks along every inch of skin he could reach as he did so, and Tobirama moaned softly. When he reached the man's face, he wasted no time in claiming his lips hard as he lined himself up and pushed in. 

Tobirama moaned loudly into Madara's mouth as the head of his cock pressed inside. His back arched, and his body naturally pushed back into Madara's hips, encouraging the smooth slide as Madara sank slowly into him. When the older man finally hilted, they both paused. Madara's head hung in the juncture of the younger’s neck and shoulder, and Tobirama's face was turned towards his lover. They panted together for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of being joined at long last.

When finally Madara pulled back, he stared in wonder at the sight beneath him. He had never seen anything more astonishing. Tobirama's cheeks were flushed, his lips parted slightly as he panted with the effort to remain still. His hair was disheveled from Madara's hands and his own writhing against the sheets, and his neck was littered with hickeys from Madara's earlier attentions. Madara couldn't stop himself from reaching up to stroke the Senju’s face, and he smiled gently. “God, you're so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. His smile only widened as he saw Tobirama's blush impossibly deepen. 

“Just move, please,” Tobirama muttered in embarrassment. 

Madara smiled as he pulled back, leaning back in to kiss the younger man's cheeks as he thrust forward. Tobirama moaned as Madara started a slow rhythm inside him, leaning back down to kiss him. When the hands gripping his ass pulled him up to an angle, Madara’s cock brushed the younger man’s prostate, and Tobirama cried out. “Oh, God, yes Madara, right there… fuck…”

Madara smiled and pulled back, but suddenly his thrusts weren’t gentle. His first pound struck true, and he slammed into Tobirama’s prostate with such force that the younger man’s nails raked hard down Madara’s back, leaving deep red scratches. The pain in turn caused Madara to thrust harder, starting a vicious cycle of the most delicious give and take either had ever experienced. 

Madara watched in amazement and arousal as Tobirama came undone beneath him, moans and whimpers slipping from his lips as Madara pounded him steadily. The Uchiha looked down between them, watching as his throbbing cock slid deep into him and then pulled back again and again, and the sight almost made him cum. There was only one thing missing…   
“Tell me you’re mine,” he growled. 

Tobirama looked at him in confusion for a moment, his pleasure-clouded mind unable to process the request. When he did, however, he didn’t hesitate to give his lover what he wanted. “I’m yours, Madara Uchiha… all yours… take me,” he gasped out. 

Madara growled as he heard the words he had longed for since the day he had met Tobirama out of combat. He instantly bent down and latched his mouth onto Tobirama’s collarbone, sucking hard as his thrusts became impossibly fast and hard, his pace erratic. 

Tobirama cried out in bliss, unable to believe how  _ good _ it felt. He hadn’t thought it got any better than what they had just been doing, but Tobirama had never even known that this level of pleasure existed. He fisted his hands in the sheets so hard that they tore, not that either party in the bed noticed, and all he could do was go along for the ride as Madara fucked him relentlessly. He could feel that blinding heat building up, and gasped out, ‘close… so close…”

With that, Madara gave it his all and hit just the right angle every time. It took only a couple more thrusts before Tobirama gasped, his hot seed spilling between their chests. Madara fucked him through his orgasm before allowing himself to spill inside of the younger man. 

As his hips hitched inside Tobirama, he gazed down at him in wonder, leaning down to press his lips gently to the pale set beneath him. He leaned down a little, still resting on his forearms so as not to crush the man beneath him, as he struggled to catch his breath. When he was finally able to pull out, he lay beside Tobirama, wondering if now was an appropriate time to ask what came next. He was surprised when the younger man instantly curled up against him, throwing a leg over his thighs and an arm over his chest, effectively trapping him. 

Tobirama smiled as he lay his head on Madara's chest. Madara's fingers traced indiscernible patterns into Tobirama's arm, and he sighed contently. He looked over to check the in briefly, only to notice something off. The picture frame that he had been unable to find last night was back, and it held a photo of Madara sitting on Tobirama-santa’s lap last night. Madara's eyes widened. He didn't remember that being taken. Although, as he looked at it, thoughts began to run through his head. He look in Tobirama's eyes, the way his hand sat so comfortably on the small of Madara's back. He looked down at the man cuddled in his arms, and shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “How the hell did I not see that?” he asked. 

Tobirama looked up with amused curiosity. “The picture?”

Madara shook his head. “How obviously in love with me you were,” he murmured, stroking  _ his _ Senju's face.

Tobirama laughed out loud. “Honestly, we have no fucking clue,” he said. “I wasn't trying to be subtle.”

Madara looked at him suspiciously. “We?”

Tobirama gave Madara a 'duh’ face. “Madara, you have to have noticed. Hashirama AND Izuna noticed, and we have tried a million times to get you to notice. Did you think it was coincidence, everything that's happened these last two weeks? It was not my plan to make this,” he gestured his hand along the length of his gloriously naked body, “today's present. Not because I didn't want it, but because I honestly thought you'd have figured it out by now and we'd have gotten to this part  _ much _ sooner.”

Madara spluttered. But as he thought back over the last two weeks, his protest died in his throat. It was quite obvious, in retrospect. But as Madara looked back on it, he didn't need to search hard to find his answer. “I never thought I'd be this lucky,” he murmured. His fingers absent-mindedly left Tobirama's arm and started twirling a short lock of hair from directly above the man's ear. Tobirama hummed contently, looking up at Madara inquisitively. “I never thought in a million years that you'd love me. That I'd  _ deserve _ your love. I saw every sign, but I wrote it off as hopeless desperation, convincing myself I'd imagined it. But I didn't, did I?”

Tobirama swallowed hard as he slowly shook his head. He took a deep breath. “No, you didn't. I… I love you, Madara. Really.”

Madara smiled gently as he stroked his lover’s face. “And I love you, Tobirama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that brings the series to a close! Thanks to everyone whose read it steadily, and I really hope you all enjoyed the exciting conclusion! If you liked it, keep your eyes peeled... I have plenty more MadaTobi where that came from ;)


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